The Little Girl

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There is a little girl with blonde pigtails

and white ribbons, wearing

A frilly blue dress adorned with a

red nautical helm

Maybe five, by chance six

Staring blankly through the

photograph

 

“All the world knows is only

what we can see

All the words we speak, clearly

are only heard by any of the

random opportunities given

Who would listen to a few questions?”

 

She asks in her little girl

squeaky voice

 

“Are we so quick to deny any

interpretations different

That we can ignore the

explanations floating on

the tips of our tongues

Shut out the chances of awareness?

Wave your hand, stand up to meet

the people just out of reach

Wake up, open your eyes

to see the ones staring at you.”

 

Maybe I’m going crazy

maybe I’m going blind

Maybe the little girl speaking is

only a figment of my vapid

imagination

Maybe someone is listening

on the other side;

maybe another lost soul

in an altered time?

 

The picture sits in a book with

other similar photos of other

People with their smiling faces peering out and

saving some of the stories long forgotten

 

“Until next time…”

 

She says,

As I box away the memories

Adding a few additional pieces

to contemplate and to store inside;

A metaphorical reflection created of a mirrored image of

the cardboard container

 

“Goodbye”

 

I whisper.

And the little girl waits until she

is remembered again…

I am grateful for lost treasures ❤

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5 responses »

  1. Pingback: Monthly Archives: March 2014 | Muse Writer

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