Mist comes down but
she walked through her own
clouds of trepidation
on crisp, crackling leaves
which played their last musical
She waits on the seat
serene and still in Autumn’s chill.
Her romantic tryst with destiny
has as yet, to be.
She hasn’t cheated on her husband
nor betrayed family
but when he is cold, sterile
and new eyes engage, sparkle
The heart begins to breathe once more
and play impromptu rhythms.
Life isn’t about what happens to you
it’s about how you handle it.
At last after years of marital suppression
after years of being taken for granted
maybe she waits for the comfort
of true love.
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