Finding Letitia

As we wade our path through the forest green, Wafting scents mixed sweet and earthy, Clung sticky to our nostrils. Skipping boldly over rocks and stream, As the eager sun began to pull our cheeks, We giggled and yelped in tune, To the feverish chirpings that filled our ears. We both, young boys, in excited form, With sticks to smash and stones to skip, Bounced through the bush - then spied a girl, In a bright dress of sunflowers blooming, Squatting by the water's edge. She cast a trance-like look across the lake, No mimic animated her placid face, With no spark of recognition of our being there. We, still inspecting, hesitant in our youth, Were uncertain of the words to greet the child. A cautious approach - although not out of fear, We stepped towards the figure bending down, Now moving automatic hands towards her face. "what is wrong?" we asked, "what are you doing here?" A silent pause that let the woodlands speak, We then saw tears begin to trace down cheeks, She answered plainly so: "I am Letitia and I must wash"