Wanted to share this here...get some thoughts. I wrote this for a beautiful en-year-old girl from my home town of Toronto. Her story, a year after her death at the hands of stranger - a mad man, still moves me to tears. HOLLY JONES Riding the ferry to Center Island she thinks: “I wonder if this boat can sink” “Of course it cannot!” Her father winks and laughs. Holly tastes her sleeve with a windowed grin. Gazes at the water rushing by Big brown eyes watch the splitting waves and then close to listen to the lovely hiss... Her arms flung wide, she observes the people of her fine city Hears their thoughts as a rushing wind Regards the sea of tears Sees the people slump within And wonders: "Do they know where they can find me if they look?" The sight of red streetcars rolling down Spadina are greeted with her relief. Small frozen hands – their nails chewed - guard rosy cheeks from the splinters of cold. Bouncing on sturdy legs to find a seat her gaze settles, tender as falling snow as the scenes unfold... A street vendor, tangles of cars, the frozen lake, Toronto was so beautiful in the winter.... Mother bathed her in a sink when she was just this-big. Sunshine streamed through a window and warmed her baby skin. Her first baby tooth appeared in a grin when Maria tickled her wrinkled toes.... She knew love, and all it’s glory, so very long ago, - and oh – How can but her mother know how much there was to adore? Holly: our collective little girl Ten years old eternal, playing amongst the stars.... Constellations laid out like the freckles on her nose. Her smile graces the faces of my daughters, and I think I can begin to know.
very good "Bouncing on sturdy legs to find a seat her gaze settles, tender as falling snow as the scenes unfold..." i esspecially like the imagry in this line!
Thank you, I'm glad you like it. I am trying to convey that a child cannot even conceive of the evils they are subjected too....don't know if that comes across though.
