I can't say that I dreamed of being a mother.
The lines in my design were too bold
to be considered a dream.
All the other plots on my plan
(a writer, a traveller, a singer)
were just branches off what I thought
was a fixed path.
Such childish cartography,
mapping out milestones
and hypothetical babies.
Now, not so far away from forty,
and I am still at the chore
of recalibrating the compass at my core
that keeps giving me false directions.
