poem

A poem I wrote maybe 15 years ago —

not three years older than me
she is a pretty little girl
and her flowering sundress
cannot contain her
long blonde hair swinging freely
arms and legs living by their own summer agendas

but I wasn’t really paying her attention
no one was
least not the driver

and then there is a moment
just another moment
a simple fact

and she freezes –
it all freezes
then snaps
and she hits the pavement

and we start again
but she has forgotten how to move
and I know she is no longer there

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