A friend is,
this very moment,
climbing the volcanic cones of Kilimanjaro,
Kibo,
Mawenzi,
Shira.
She has dreamed of the summit her entire life,
of the snowy slopes
far below them the plains and grasses.
She told me about the trip with excitement in her eyes,
and when I lamented that I could not take such grand adventures–
I have a little son who requires big time–
she smiled
but I could see the regret as her smile faded.
She could not have a child.
I cannot have Kilimanjaro.