She stood no higher than my knee
And no closer than the opposite side
Of the dismal street that we both
Happened to be walking upon.
I could hear her laughing behind
Where my trail had been blazed,
Clumsy, hurried steps quickly
Approached my periphery.
I turned and saw her standing
With two of her friends,
All about the same size and shape
Except she stood a few yards in front.
She smiled and spoke to me,
Blue ice cream in hand,
The same kind I ate last night:
Distinct and sweet, a little bitter.
Her shirt was covered in dirt,
Her pants well worn and sturdy
With no tears or need for repair,
Hair pulled back into a little bun.
She asked for my name, and I hers,
And we talked about simple things,
When I found out that she was
As old as there are colors in the rainbow.
She giggled when things were funny,
And straightened her face
When she needed to think about
What exactly was said and how to reply.
The well from which we drew our words
Became dry, or at least, our ropes
Not long enough to reach its waters,
So I descended towards my gate.
There she stood, and quickly she left,
Back to wherever she came,
Not to be seen again in a town so small
It dwarfs you with its largeness.
Author’s Note: I met a little girl one day. I’m always amazed at how small some of these children are for their age. I cannot say if it is because they are not eating well or because their parents are small people as well. Sometimes they want to talk to me, but most of the time they simply stare.