Thursday, March 6, 2014


A little girl came across our lawn
and knocked on our door. A pawn
no more. She was gone.
Past the dawn. 

Just a baby, innocence foregone,

she lay on my couch and yawned,
"No more." She was gone
past the dawn

late the next morning. She yelled, "Come on!"

when she woke. A little fawn
no more. She was gone.
Past the dawn.


Creative Bloomings - Triquint

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