
I stand in awe
and appreciate your three year old ways,
as you trot down the narrow French sidewalks,
tap-tapping your well selected stick
on wrought iron gates and
poke-poking into each mail slot
and sewer cover.
Your shiny red rain boots
find even the smallest puddles
and crush with delight each remaining
morsel of snow.
I smile and think God was kind
for allowing the children of Paris
this rite of winter
I so took for granted,
growing up in Chicago.
Cars slow to enjoy the sight,
my bright splash of color,
always quietly eliciting
the attention of others.
Eyes blue as the sky,
hair yellow as sunshine.
A foreign look in a foreign land.
--Elizabeth Eckert, Jan. 7, 1995
Copyright 1995 by Elizabeth Eckert
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by Donna Dolezal Zelzer, djz@efn.org |