A man pulled up next to me

and interrupted my reading to ask
“Your bumper sticker,
We won’t go back,
What does that mean to you?”
I tried to explain to him
The desperate fear of a life
Where I couldn’t control my own body
And he smiled and nodded and said
“I don’t agree, but you expressed yourself well,
I have hope for the next generation.”
If only hope were enough, sir,
I could hope enough for everyone,
But it isn’t. 
He drove away smiling,
And I sat,
Still afraid.