|
| |
how did you get here
How did you get here, little one?
You are such a contrast to these dead leaves and sticks
They are gray, tan, and ugly
You are a misfit in the world of the unseen.
You usually fit onto a rearview mirror of a car.
I cannot see anyone wearing you as an eyepatch
I doubt you fell off someone’s backpack.
Wait a second, here is a thought.
A persnickety camper who attaches an air freshener to his backpack?
I smile at this absurd idea.
Should I leave you here for others to discover?
Or should I pick you up, risking my life, for you might be germy.
Playing it safe, I take a photo and leave her there to delight other writers.
Copyright ©
Caren Krutsinger
|
|