two feet from the mailbox
facing it
expectant
she’s waiting for the mail.
Waiting with great anticipation
bursting in her teenage body
for freedom she craves
a world beyond what she knows
of her family
her small town
her small existence.
She’s waiting
for life to begin
for another way
for someone, anywhere.
She sits, staring
two feet from the mailbox
looking down the dusty dirt road
eyes full, locked, ready
waiting for the mail
waiting for her world to
open
up.
image: by pocius