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Caroline

If you don't learn to write your own story, someone else will write it for you

7 poems·Since April 2013
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Red Rope

April 26, 2013
Time skips by, Little girl with a bright red jump rope Counting one, two, three All to herself. Reaching one hundred Begin again, Faster, faster, Blur of brown hair, innocent green eyes, Red rope turns over and over, A staccato rhythm keeping time - Never ending. Her music as the sun sets; Light fading Smears of orange and yellow Casting her ever-moving shadow Onto the dark gravel below. Darkness approaches, Foreboding. Her smile a shield Against the monsters lurking in the gloom. Her innocence a sword against the dangers Hunting for a young child, Waiting for the moment She bends down To tie a freed shoelace, Unaware. Not I, she says, Red jump rope in hand, Conqueror of fears Defeater of the night, Playacting the part Brave Joan of Arc. The world is hers As her red rope turns Over and over. Count to one hundred, Begin again. Dreaming of a day When she can rule more than a bright red jump rope And the shadows Of the night.
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