the one who might

she has been looking for someone, since before she knew the word for wanting, “please, have you seen this person?” someone who’s tall and strong when she scratched her knees falling down the monkey bars —he can catch her when she falls, and lift her like she's air someone who's kind and has a puppy when she first held a fluffy life in her arms —it can play with them and their daughter someone who’s capable and independent when her parents insisted that she must become or marry a doctor —he’d take her to a foreign land, where metaphors are embraced someone who would cherish her when she thought she would marry the man who made her say ‘sorry’ in four languages —he would know to trust her rather than the slithering voices of fear someone who would love her when she can write an essay on how her depression makes her a family failure —he might be the only one that can read her without judgment she looks and asks and prays and cries before the next day arrives, “please, if he’s there... please reply.” “He’s standing right here,” “just past the last thing you can recall.” “By the squeaky old gate that tomorrow will find,” “but he can only stay in tomorrow.” “How do I know which tomorrow?” (a low chuckle) “You don’t.” ______________________ Quote from contest 'Choose a Line 3 Poetry Contest' sponsored by Joseph May: "By the squeaky old gate that tomorrow will find"