From her dark coccoon she emerges,

Unsteady on her feet.

Warily glancing at the world,

So unfamiliar.

Growing up,

She’s alive and free.

She stretches out her arms,

Beckoning the sun,

And curls up in a field of poppies.

This entry was posted on Saturday, November 22nd, 2008 at 6:14 pm and is filed under Rose Colored Glasses. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.