Sunday, May 24, 2009

A Hanging Basket of Impatiens

It was the summer

She was sparkling white,
fresh and new;
a child born from grace
from the grace of God

Her face shone with
simple beauty and
her eyes looked deep
into the distance

I see her now because
someone cared to save
her image among flowers
her and flowers

and then

just flowers because
flowers fade and die;
someone cared to save
just those flowers


if anyone had known
that little girls can die
those flowers would not
be all alone

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