Wistful

WISTFUL

 

She would never have a life of

Children, lawnmowers, storm windows with built-in screens.

No fertilized lawns.

No, infertility was not the problem.

It was the rock garden in her head.

Wistful, she envisioned the lost innocence of

Her youth. Her willingness and eagerness to

Trust others. The traumatic disappointments artfully

Concealed behind

Quiet smiles and politely folded hands.

About so much, she was obviously wrong. Especially when

She was certain she was absolutely

Right.

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