She smelled like a run down house,
old,
dusty,
the sense that rain had
made its way between
the rafters
But she laughed like summer
high
clear
as if she was laughing
at an endless
blue sky
and only the birds
could hear.
And she would
fly away
with them
to secret places
and hidden palaces
deep in her
head
dream of wondrous
beings
And in summer heat
we would sit under
the canopy
and she
would tell me stories
of Arynnia and the
Lobster Night
The town of Peddlers
and the time they forgot
their shoes,
Master Dorean and the
Silk Princess.
Winter came,
with it scarves and gloves
and as I shivered
and complained
she would dance under
falling snow
tango with orange nosed
mysterious strangers
She lived
And I, simple observer
could do little but watch and
wonder