In meadows of dandelions and dried grass,
Sat silent, motionless,
Atop a worn rock, carpeted with moss
Two girls with windblown hair

The left, with chestnut curls,
The front strands tied back
Out of her face, hung loosely over her coral dress
With a satin bow around the waist

She gazed towards the other’s hands
Holding flowers of yellow and pale blue
Harmonizing with colors of her wrinkled dress
And those of her soft golden waves

Her eyes filled wet, brimming but resisting
Withstanding the urge
To let tears drip down her rosy cheeks
Heartbroken from a setback in her latest venture

Next to her, a forest of birches and elms
Kept watch on the girls
Shading their pale, youthful faces
From the rising, morning sun

Through the drapery of overhanging branches
Lights flickered downhill by the town
Small red buildings on pastel meadows
Their trees looking back up at the girls

And as the dew melted nearby on a budding flower
The two girls sighed longingly
And shivered in the cool, untouched air
And spoke of their dreams for exactly this day.