Where Is She

Her long light brown braids, bouncing on her back as she ran to her new bicycle. 6-years-old she had just learned to ride with the two wheels. Her Daddy was there, to set his little girl free. He sent her only down the block. The innocence of little children before they become jaded. Proudly, she giggled as she rode back to Daddy’s safe arms. By then, Mommy had come out to see her first ride, on her own. Since it was lunch time, Mommy took her gentle small hand into her warm bigger hand, and lead her inside for her favorite. A peanut butter and jelly sandwich! Daddy put the pink bicycle safely near the front door. After lunch, she wanted to ride again. Besides, her pink t-shirt with the fringed bottom, and her lacy pink shorts and her favorite pink shiny sneakers; she had to ride by her best friends house, one block away. And off she went, and she never arrived, or came back. They found her bicycle in a field two weeks later.

She flew on pink wings;
We turned around and she’s gone.
We should have held on.

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