Still wearing her little red boots,
she was half sunk deep
amongst the giant tree roots,
all the spirits around her would weep,
as the insects swarmed about her
in the reeking water,
head crushed by the river stones,
and the earth bugs picking her flesh
from the bones,
the river passed through the soul of the city,
but it was a damn shame, a pity,
that her body was yet to be found,
and if they looked carefully,
it was only half buried in the ground,
then came a sound
of spirits crying,
barely audible above the soft river breeze,
where all the emotions would just freeze.
© 2011 Frank Atanacio
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