Children’s hands,
graceful and gentle as falling leaves,
brittle and easily broken,
blessed be.
The lady across the street,
she seems to be content gazing at a screen.
Unfocused, unalert to what goes on unseen.
For a voice calls, it is rough indeed.
Come by my side child, I am no foe.
I’m a friend of your parents, we parted years ago.
I’ve found a dog over there, you know this place well.
Guide me toward its owners, I promise I won’t tell.
Sparkled sneakers squeal with each step,
If anyone had heard the last words he said,
well,
no one would question why the girl is dead.
You’re a good little girl.
A porcelain hand, an arrogant smile,
and the girl was gone.
No one noticed for a while.