Saturday, April 8, 2017

Panic


That was the prompt. Panic. And I am not about to write about a panic attack, thank you very much. So I settled with a memory of watching my little sisters play in the water. 

Jacinta at the Beach

She went with cautious confidence,
Her little toes curled on the sand,
And little face amazed and grave
As water rushed around her feet
And broke upon the shore.

While I watched with heart in mouth,
Her joy between lake and land,
Afraid, because she was so brave,
The water would rush up to greet

Forget its strength, and teach her fear.

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