Abortion Denied

She had dreams
as big as yours— 

of college—
fine clothes—
a useful career—

but,

someone
grabbed her heart,
that junior year.

He said, 
 
“I Love You,” 

and she was 

trusting 

enough 
to believe his
thinly sliced 

Promises,
Kisses
and Caresses.

The upshot, 


a baby girl
came along.

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

There was no 
high school graduation
 
with diploma in hand, 
proud parents beaming.

Home alone, 
her daughter fussy, 

bottle bubbling, 
angry on the stove,

and later, after the baby 
finally fell asleep, 

she, our dropout,

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

tassel flipped to one side. 

It was then she saw herself, 

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

Road Closed 


sign
 
at fifteen bucks an hour

that she wished she had 

noticed 

way back when.

j