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Fetal Curl
  Copper hair traced carved cheeks
  Thin eyes sat deep into skull
  Following a crow pecking at
  Maize in the yard across the street.
  Her mind wandered and
  Flew away, watched tomorrow
  Projected in worries,
  Stress lines wrinkled her forehead
  Her scalp began to grey.
  Blue eyes that used to twinkle sit still,
  Her laugh was but a cough to break
  Loose, and the days were nothing but
  A spasm, split ends that reeked
  For the wind- when it comes
  Her worry lines deepen and release
  Before callusing into her skin.
  Pores awakened settle
  Back, behind powdered trust and
  Disrespect. The girl sleeps too often,
  Nothing means anything anymore,
  Tomorrow is today once again,
  Repetition of one before.

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