The Girl

by Mercedes Gates 

 

Hair bouncing to the sky

with every skip of the rope,

flashing teeth into a grin

though two are missing.

She bears the same hue as

the old walnut tree in the yard.

A lively girl,

made of grit and sunshine

as rowdy as a swift tornado.

Though glee inhabits her freely,

jubilation leaps from her

infecting the girls in her orbit.

shrieks echo off the empty street

casting joy

to the slumbering houses