The Little Girl

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the dark skin of the little girl is torn

and she pleads to me in foriegn tongue

to fix the damage done

she shivers and whimpers at the wipes

as i try to pick out the dirt and larvea

that have manefestid in the surrounding braids

the amount of force applied to this stranded child is unbearable

and i ask about her injury in broken spanish

prying from her trembling lips

with the help of my partner

i am to understand this was not an accident

this pain was inflicted with force and intent

i craddle the infant in my arms and cry with her

my tears are not from physical pain

only from knowing this is all i can do

so i spend the remander of the blistering tropical day

cuddling a small weeping dominican girl

and wishing i could mend her heart as well





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