(I posted this photo this morning but had appointments all day long until now, when I’m finally posting a poem to go with it. I just now noticed it is my 2,000th post in this blog!!)

Judy Dykstra-Brown Photo
To a Pensive Pre-teen with Her Toes Curled in the Sand,
Outside the Beachside Cafe with Her Chin Cupped in Her Hand
What might you be dreaming of?
What thoughts have formed your frown,
child sitting on the steps
where ocean meets the town?
Perhaps you do not have a coin
to stay the vendor’s cart
for paletas of strawberry
or guava, cold and tart.
Perhaps you do not wish to stay
and yet you cannot leave.
There are so many stories
that a taleteller could weave.
But the truth is, you’re eleven,
and your parents are inside.
Reason enough for you to choose
the company of the tide.
Note: A paleta is an ice cream bar or popsicle.
What a lovely poem
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Miriam. I was so entranced with this little girl’s photo. Actually I ran across her a year later at a local flea market selling all her Barbie Doll things. I need to do a feature on that.. Little girls were lined up half the way down the aisle, and this little girl was so calm… Much the same mood.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Wow, sounds like a post in the making Judy.
LikeLiked by 1 person
It’s such a strange and wonderful age, especially for girls. Half child, half woman, all wonder.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I love this post, you did a great job capturing this daily prompt!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, mywords. That picture has haunted me since I took it on St. Patrick’s day either one or two years ago. What an expressive face this little girl has.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Your welcome.
LikeLike