August 21, 2023

Who We Once Were – A Prose Poem

And then there was the little girl, as self- possessed as only nine-year olds can be, brown as a berry from a summer spent outdoors, sporting spiffy lime-green sunglasses as she ran determinedly up and down the trail, announcing with great authority to all and sundry that eleven egrets (!) were all right there – by the marsh bridge, muttering and back-talking at one other, much to the wonder of gathering onlookers.

But the star was really their confidant herald -- with her curly nut-brown hair, loose and free.