Prone to Wander: 6:17 PM
stands in front of the bathroom mirror,
olive green shaggy rug snug under her bare feet.
mouth forms an “O” shape as she swipes the mascara wand
her left eyelashes, then the right ones.
purses her lips, slathers them with cherry chapstick.
colorful handwritten notes, “I love yous” and “I will miss yous”
with hearts and stars and cats and stick people, are
placed between her pharmacy book and apple,
her bag with “Nurses call the shots,” written in black cursive on the side.
swallows the last gulp of her coffee and
down to give me a hug and a kiss and
try with all my seven-year-old power to
the moment—with her fresh soap and coffee scent—
I can hold onto it through the long night ahead.
and Hope battling each other fiercely and I wonder,
one is stronger in me in this very moment.