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.