Fortune
Fortune Outside a little oven of a house on a sand lot off base in an overheated state was where I first felt it, the certainty that I could live other ways in other places and be free. Swinging on a swing under a mimosa’s pink stars I was inhabited airborne no one’s daughter. Fortune swings both ways. I’m not immune to loss or hazard. But, from that day that “I do” exchanged with something in and all around me I have been the lucky one, beloved of the gods. Today, much further north and decades later, each burning bush has one red leaf, crickets stridulate their wings half-heartedly. We all know what is coming. The air today is cool. Let’s call it fresh. S. Robbins, from Readings
Sherry Robbins 