Prospective

In the center of my city

is a plaza, a park you would say

in your country.

Large trees give shade from the late afternoon

summer sun.

Lovers lay stretched out on the grass talking.

Families spread blankets for picnics.

Groups of teenagers sit together playing guitar.

It’s quite idyllic.

I walk by and observe.

My city is a seaport

with a wooden boardwalk along the water.

Couples stroll up and down the boardwalk

hand in hand

eating ice cream.

The boats rock gently in the water.

Soft white clouds float alone high above.

I get back to my apartment to find

a message on my phone from my doctor.

My test results are back