The Daughter

it is mid-day,

summer heated spring beauty

she walks, aimlessly

devoid of emotion

no stranger to strangers passing by

warm breeze flutters her cotton dress,

dancing with wisps of golden hair,

stranded from the long braid lane softly down her back

resting in lushness of green grasses,

shining raze of sun, warm her milky skin

wide, blue eyes gaze up to a reflecting clear blue empty sky

parched mouth,

she languidly bites into a sumptuous red tomato,

eaten as an apple, the juices slither down her plush lips

gliding the crease of her elongated neck

kissing the ground with nutrients

as bended knee, a glistening pearl of sweat

rolls down the curve of her calf,

she feeds the earth with her existence

as the skies,

listen to her silence

seeping into the ground of which she invades,

comforting strength and growth

solitude and awareness,

she is her Mother’s daughter

a minuscule piece,

of an existence much grander