a smile in her eyes and a sunflower in her hair.* (retro_chica) wrote, @ 2008-05-12 14:46:00

Little Red Rain Boots
Time moves differently for different people.

She stood, six years old
at the edge of the lake, listening to the crunching of the sand beneath her feet
that there were soft turns and slips
and sharp wobbles between boulders
and when she had found the perfect spot

she sat
criss cross
applesauce
and just looked towards the big black blue
it didn't look very deep.
at least not for a while,
the algae still caressed the mountains of stone that peaked its head about halfway to the end of the eye can see

and its okay if nothing else happened except the tide rolling in
and the occasional seagull squawking for some bread

no thing was really happening.
everything was.

and just like that
just looking at the hypnotizing view
she suddenly felt the need to look beside her
it was as if someone else had found it
so gently and beautifully laid out
like a display

a smooth scultptured stone with a fossil in it
that could have been a shell
or a funky sort of fish
(there might have been fins)

she took her time closing her eyes
greeting the stone into her new world

and she awoke in a swing
swaying back
and forth
back and forth
her head towards the sand
this one was wet and damp
the smell of fresh rain had decorated the world

her foot skimmed two parallel lines
with bumps and faults inbetween
the sound reminded her of sandpaper
of her steps along the beach.

dizzy, she looks up.

water is a beautiful set of paints
that mediates and creates a medium
for birth, life, and beauty.

its not so topsy turvy anymore.
its prominent in a delicate sort of way.

cherry blossoms on a dark dark skin of bark
meshed with vibrant yet a calming green.

and the pavement smells like spring.

and now she opens her eyes again.
and there are people all around
its a different kind of time
for the same kind of person

but they don't seem to fit in.
they hustle
they bustle
they rhyme to a ciagrette tune.

they aren't where she is.

she closes her eyes again.

she is six years old.
with a blue rain coat that squeaks whenever you move.

splash!
and its okay
the puddles are fun
with Little Red Rain Boots
and a vinyl umbrella.

its good to see the sky cry
because its giving birth
it releases pain
it releases joy

it creates life.

and the sounds they don't mean that much.
to be honest the sights don't either.

its a very odd sort of daze.
a Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds
minus the pills and the horrible side effects.

she opens her heart.
and lets all in.
because not all is a one
and everyone isn't fair.

maybe things need to
clickclickclick
together
click

photograph
camera
memory

is she searching for something?
an escape?
a love?
a meaning.

a tap on the shoulder.
"Hey there sunshine,
what's in store for us today?"

"Melodies and sweet symphonies.
And candy by the lake."

Cotton Candy.

Yeah.
Cotton Candy.

How does this work?
Puzzle Puzzle Puzzle Piece.

searching for its partner.
we don't intertwine perfectly.
we are not in a box made for children three and over.

we are a ball of yarn.
and a pair of
Little
Red
Rain
Boots.

liferegretsresilientbreath.
maybe.maybe.

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