Under Repair

Under Repair
She had dreams just
as big as yours - 

of college -
fine clothes -
a useful career -

but
someone
grabbed her heart
that junior year.

A boy told her

he Loved her

and she was
foolish
enough (then)
to believe his
thinly sliced

Promises and
Kisses and
Caresses.

The upshot,

(surprise, surprise)

a baby girl
came along,
perfect in every way.

The boy, drifted away,
a small boat, unmoored.

So there was no 
high school graduation

strut across the stage,
or cartwheels 
with diploma in hand, 
or proud parents beaming.

Home alone that 
celebratory evening,
her daughter fussy
and running a fever,
bottle bubbling
on the stove,
and later, when the baby
finally fell asleep,

and 
She, our dropout,
stood before the mirror
imagining a glorious
satin cap and gown,

tassel flipped to one side,

she saw herself, 
standing beside a dusty road
dressed in sloppy jeans,
hard hat,
and fluorescent vest
holding a

Slow

sign

at fifteen bucks an hour

that she wished she had

heeded

way back when. 
Photo by Taryn Elliott on Pexels.com

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