Sad Little Me
And then there is me, sad little me, living in a dream, staring out the window, never again to find love.
And then there is me, sad little me, living in a dream, staring out the window, never again to find love.
I am not a stupid woman. I am aware that there is a world out there that functions without regard to me. There are wars and budgets and bombings and vast dimensions of wealth and greed and ambition and corruption.
I’m looking out the pickup truck’s window at Ambleside Beach and the ocean and the freighters – at the mothers tending to their children covered in sand and sugar and spit, at the blue sky and the mallard ducks and the Canada geese.