Premonition
So many things I might have been,
I could have done.
So many talents I have wasted,
Dead ends pursued.
But I have never been boring.
My life is not what I expected,
Yet it is satisfying.
I am fiercely independent,
I would never change or try to please another.
If someone could love me despite that,
—better, because of that,
I would be fiercely loyal.
I refuse to search for such a one,
Instead I rejoice in my solitude.
I am not immune from desire
But I am stubborn.
Our first meeting seemed providential
(Who am I to argue with Providence?)
Yet as the weeks went by
We did not speak.
I learned a little about him—
He seemed quite boring.
(Meanwhile I met another,
Exciting, attractive,
—Out-of-reach.)
As weeks turned into months
Still I saw him,
We spoke only in passing.
But I had the most frightening visions:
I have seen him sharing my responsibilities;
I have seen us together by the font;
I have seen a frumpy, middle-aged couple.
God forbid!
I do not want to be typical.
Perhaps I could share a life
Filled with travel and excitement and each other.
But not the boring domestic life,
Especially, God help me, no children!
Understand, then:
If I weep thinking of him
It is not because of longing,
Rather I despair my destiny.
Should I tremble when he is near
It is not because of desire,
Rather I am terrified of tedium.
First Impressions
I'd hoped I'd be spared this
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