She

She waits for me
at the end of a long day
or week
when I’ve been gone

Not with the misplaced
romanticism
of a teenager
who has read Romeo and Juliet
one too many times

We are too grown up for that

but she worries
There are scary things in this world.
She’s right about that

She looks forward to the day
When she will only wait
for me
to come back from Southwest Boulevard
and only have to worry
if I remembered the guacamole
and salsa.

Talk over dinner about life transitions and taking the long way home, which included a drive past a well-known KC neighborhood, led to this little piece.

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