She stands alone by the train tracks.
Watching and waiting and dreaming.
Hobos no longer exist.
She remembers reading stories of life
when her great grandmother lived:
hobos begging for food, gypsies stealing
children and telling fortunes, long days
working in the corn fields, chopping weeds.
Her own family praises:
tractors, riding lawn mowers, herbicides, pesticides,
electricity, TVs, dishwashers, muscle cars, MacDonalds,
diet Coke, cell phones, computers, DVDs, iPADs.
Now the only excitement lays in Grand Theft Auto,
guns, and sex. She watches and waits and dreams.
She stands alone on the rim,
watching the moon rise,
Life flies by on wings
She remembers rich years
filled with long joys, living,
and temporary sadness, divorces,
moving here and there,
Narrangansett Bay, Utah mountains,
babies held to breast, blond
and chubby, cafe con leche.
She remembers girlhood longings
for far horizons, traveling
around the world, lovers,
husbands, shades of brown
She’s learned to make
her own excitement,
singing Goddess songs,
dancing on the rim of wonder.
Photograph by Anabel McMillen and Painting by Lahib Jaddo