Poetry Corner
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Thursday, December 22, 2011
Little Girls
Bold and unheard child
Whispers to the moth on the milkweed
Her milkweed
Of it she never tastes
Realizes the stickiness of the stems
Wiped upon her feet
And her poly toes
Distraction, she rises
To catch a whirley bird still green
Leaves not brittle
Child twirls it with wide brown eyes
Brown but red
Alike none known
She remains oblivious
To how much more absorbent they are
little girls
they attract innocent magic
Something new everyday
To behold in her forest
Where she roams freely
Owner of her fortress
By herself but never alone
Whispers to the moth on the milkweed
Her milkweed
Of it she never tastes
Realizes the stickiness of the stems
Wiped upon her feet
And her poly toes
Distraction, she rises
To catch a whirley bird still green
Leaves not brittle
Child twirls it with wide brown eyes
Brown but red
Alike none known
She remains oblivious
To how much more absorbent they are
little girls
they attract innocent magic
Something new everyday
To behold in her forest
Where she roams freely
Owner of her fortress
By herself but never alone
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