A Poem by L.J. Williams © 2020
Whatever has the tender earth done to Charlotte Black!?
She used to roam the meadow, soft and green, and
Pick the pristine daisies while the sun was still serene.
It teased her from behind the clouds, which she would scry
It sent its gentle rays to sparkle brightly on the stream
That burbled over friendly rocks, and warbling birds
Would join the chorus with their song, and
Charlotte Black would feel their joy, and sing along.
She felt the soft, brown earth between her toes, and
Asked the bubbling water where it comes from;
Where it goes. She wondered, too,
What mysteries lay in rotted logs,
How long trees lived;
What was hidden in the forests;
What lurked in bogs; and
What turned tadpoles into frogs?
But Charlotte doesn’t go there anymore.
The sun is now a hostile host, the sky is crossed…
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