Saturday, May 11, 2013

Possibility as the guest of honor


When I went to bed last night I realized that my vision for the morning had Possibility and me holding Disappointment*s hands.  I hadn*t realized Disappointment was a little girl.  She is.  I wonder what she will look like... all grown up.  I imagine she will still be late for breakfast, and prefer cocoa in her bunny mug,  Maybe I can teach her how to weed.  Then again, maybe not.

As I lay in bed
Last night
I went over the guest list
And plans
For the morning.
I realized I had invited
Possibility
As the guest of honor.
She wears her silver hair
In a practical bob.
Sure enough
She arrived wearing blue jeans,
Hiking boots,
A workshirt.
She brought her garden tools
With her,
Ready to do some weeding with me
After breakfast.
When Disappointment arrives
As she surely will
(Truly
She is most always
Late)
We will feed her eggs and toast
Find her special bunny mug
With two handles,
One on either side,
Pour her
Steaming hot cocoa.
Disappointment looks
Like she always has:
Very young.
Pigtails.
A pinafore.
She has never
Gotten any older.
She does not know how to distinguish
A weed
From anything.
After breakfast
Possibility and I
Will take Disappointment for a walk
Under the flowering trees.
We will each
Take a hand.
We may point out an occasional weed
But most of all
We will help Disappointment look up,
Notice the blossom-laden trees.
Possibility and I
Will predict the fruit.

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