I huddle beneath cascading branches of the elm tree.

An akward shudder runs through my arms.

I rub them, distracted, my mind a planet away.

An orange sun begins to hide behind bordering houses,

Shadows cast eerie pictures on the asphalt.

Silently, I wait for Mother to come home.

The aromas of home cooked meals creep into my nostrils.

I am reminded of my empty growling stomach,

the TV dinners piled sky high in our ancient fridge.

Through a window i see a bustling rosy cheeked mother

who laughs at her children's jokes, smiles lovingly at her husband,

and who'd never think of abandoning her lively nest.

The dull gray sky pulls on fringes of a dark night.

Finally I hear the comforting sound of screeching brakes,

a trash can hit and fallen,

a slammed car door and

"Megan? Megan where ARE you?"

Relieved, i jump from the ground, ignoring the shooting pain in my legs caused by long strides.

I am breathless when I reach the door.

I see my Mother lighting a candle, and throwing her jacket over a worn brown chair.

We feast on Swanson's Chicken Dinners that night and I am not ashamed.

We toast our wine glasses brimming with chocolate milk

a pleasant ring hangs in the air.

My mother, through her many faults, never forgot about the lonely girl who sat patiently under a sacred tree.

Blue eyes, like a mirror, look into my own.

We smile our secret smile and proudly devour over-cooked mashed potatoes.

Secretly, I know I will have to wait for her again tomorrow,

but for now,

I am content.