There is a girl who sits on the wooden floor, no roof;
The clouds floating by overhead as if down a river.
She sits there in the sunlight, sorting leaves,
Pushing them in and out of the shadows.
A small wind stirs her hair.
Thoughts are blowing through the rafters of her mind
Like white papers blowing in the updraft in a very old house.
The goldish paint is cracking and peeling
Off the sides of the walls
And there is a loaf of dusty bread
In the oven that they forgot to eat.
more by Lëaf Ednïwinga
photograph by Eli DeFaria
Hire An Editor