Kerri Dearing

She stands on the porch
Watching the swing lift the golden haired beauty into the air
Her heart beating to the pattern of bouncing curls.
What if…

She stands on the sidewalk
Forcefully willing herself to let go of the handlebars
Her life wobbling down the concrete on crooked tires.
What if…

She stands on the corner
Following the path of pink sneakers up the grooved bus steps
Her miracle smiling back from the dusty double window.
What if…

She stands in the driveway
Shaking harder than the aging Ford’s broken glove compartment
Her blood tingling in fear for the maiden journey.
What if…

She stands in the bleachers
Clapping till her skin burns tight and tears sting her face
Her life’s work leaving the stage clutching a furl of white.
What if…

She stands in the aisle
Gazing as a cloud of white taffeta floats just past her reach
The core of her being cinched for the loss.
What if…

They stand by the bed
Counting every finger, toe, and dimple of their tiny wonder
Their love reflected in his gleaming dark eyes and impish grin.
What if…