Mona Lisa

You tell her how good it is to see her
again, since you knew her back when
she juggled with a juvenile-arrested
husband mired in a perpetual scowl
relieved by the presence of an
emotional, emotive dog with an
oddly crooked tail desperately in
need of hugs her husband shrugged
off. When her children, one, two
three, were born that dog still
elicited her concern and love, spread
now generously to embrace five
needy souls. This lovely woman,
remember, forever smiled wanly yet
genuinely engaged in love and life.
You believed the marriage hadn't a
chance, admired her as a perfect
mother and dog-lover whose endless
patience, saddled with four teen-aged
temperaments, one of whom fathered
her children, she nonetheless
persevered with and pampered to
preserve his fragile psyche. Her
oldest daughter, now 19, fled
higher learning in favour of serving
tables at Whistler and a way of
life that appealed to her imagination.
But your friend smiles indulgently
satisfied her daughter will learn
and prosper, doting now on a diminished
family, surprisingly still including
the father of her children, two of
whom appear inclined to her
generous nature and view of life.