a trace

 

bright blue
the eyes seem to twinkle light
makes a corona in the corners
of her squinting  smile; the low moments
bring a wide calm stare-
the little within girl asks- does the world not care?

it is that blend of joy and heartbreak
the meaning of her life's song
her spirit does not lift, it soars
her heart does not crash, it splinters
bit by tearful bit- she is a little broken now
the triumphant path is one that gives and takes away
we know this day through the echo of days left behind--
but that kept a trace, a splinter.

now, across seas and against odds; she is
where she wished to be- a little town with vast opportunity - 

In Bloomington, and
In the cornfields that surround the town
where she has set her roots anew
i think of fruits that crackle in the night
growing as we  might watch and see
the rains that fell on happy or sad days
tended soils in similar ways, life feeds
on every morsel, and time
is the  patient farmer.