She has almost forgotten the feeling --

like an overload of caffeine

from a morning spent at Starbucks,

solving the world’s problems with friends

over cups of white chocolate mocha.

In the mirror she sees the smile,

reminiscent of Da Vinci’s art

and Lewis Carroll’s cat,

drawn together to hint at a secret,

at an anticipated event.

She joins the radio in song,

then laughs at the exuberance

she gives to the lyrics, and at

the hairbrush microphone

clasped in her hand.

It’s just a date, she tells her image,

just lunch, and conversation --

yet the beating of her heart nearly

drowns out the radio’s rhapsodies

while her cheeks blaze with color.

Just a date – but she knows it’s more --

it’s that first step back

on a journey celebrating her life.

She is in the driver’s seat

and the ride is good once again.