I was once a little girl

I was once a little girl
jumping in puddles
behind my mother’s back.
Today, I have few possessions
and can offer even less.
My wisdom remains
as fragile as the morning mist.
Like bright autumn leaves
scattering in the wind,
my days go by.
They and I,
will eventually crumple.
In the meantime,
I continue jumping in puddles.

Kenza.

19 thoughts on “I was once a little girl”

  1. “My wisdom remains
    as fragile as the morning mist.”
    The action of jumping puddles counteracts this fragility. At least that is how I see it. Does that make sense to you?

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I did not think of it that way, but I like it. I always like to mix in all the senses (touch/texture, colour, smell, etc.) so I like what you perceived. Thank you!

      Liked by 1 person

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