Through the sunflower garden
I went barefoot, I was a pink lady twirling
in an English forest, a tiny person
lost in the grass.
I collected green sea glass, when I
held it to the sunlight the whole world
looked like a Tiffany window.
Everything was prettier then, the world
was brighter, bigger, more promising,
the flowers in my hair smelled more sweet.
My dreams of the future were boundless--
staying out late, my first boyfriend,
getting a job--I would be a golden success.
I would be brilliant, beautiful, and
I would wear high heels.
Things changed from green to brown, and back
innumerable times, my tree-house fell down,
I drank my freedom in small doses.
Now even sea glass could not make
the world beautiful. Wonderful boys
passing on the tide are bright spots, along with
new clothes, mascara, lush greenhouse plants.
But still.
There is no tiny lady, I am too big for my world,
and I wonder where the flowers went.
It makes me sad.