Nostalgia...

She let her gaze drift through the open window
Past the tree line, past the gleaming Serpentine
To a distant point where only her eyes could see,
Where young men were jesting in the sun

With pretty girls flirting under the shadow
Of their frilly umbrellas, the luscious shine
Of their faces mirroring their glee,
It was a Sunday afternoon for having fun.

With a sigh, she lifted her hand to her brow
Questioning her wisdom for the umpteeth time
Why she couldn't be like them happy and free
Or if her loneliness would kill her on the long run.