To a Little Girl

As you sit on the floral-carpeted floor with your dolls behind locks and drawn curtains to keep out the miasma, I have something to tell you. Life is not Candy Land, a colorful path of sugary stones leading you inevitably to the finish line, with friendly helpers holding your hand and no side streets to make you lost. One day we’ll have to unlock this door, open these windows, push these curtains aside; you will wilt in here like a sunflower who knows not which way to turn for light. But beware of the overhead lamps and their artificial brightness, the false reassurance, “Don’t squirm-- everything is going to be all right.”