Fingers curled around a tea cup.
Watching the window.
Does she wish she’d traveled more?
Lived abroad?
Learned French just to order a pain au chocolat?
Does she wish she’d written more love letters?
And fewer grocery lists.
Should she have watched more sunsets,
Taken more bubble baths?
Dyed her blond,
Worn more floppy hats,
More red lipstick?
Does she miss being beautiful?
Has she quit a job with flourish?
Been fired and come back stronger?
Smashed fine China to prove a point?
Has she swam naked?
Ran naked?
Danced naked?
Does she believe in soul mates?
Believe in heaven?
Believe in ghosts?
Does she wonder about the future?
Wonder about dying?
Worry about how she’ll be remembered? Or if?
If anyone will miss her?
Did she really live?
Or is she simply thinking about whether or not to order pie.
Perhaps, blueberry.
