If You Can
With the reflection
With the reflection
From the early morning sun
She could see her facial figure
In the pool of the pond.
The ripples washed away the aging
Folded upon her face
Then the colours burst forth
Creating an illusion with the old almost erased.
Then she asked herself the question
She believed that she had feared
And the question was,
"Where do I go from here?"
She then washes away the image
With the stroke of her hand
Then with a tireless cry announces,
"Catch me if you can!"
Brenda Elizabeth Rose
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