my maid's daughter
By neha bhat
She was truly A replicated version Albeit a younger one, Of my maid. Playing around in my backyard Under the winter sun, Sitting on the white garden chairs Then standing and running away. Then again, coming and sitting down, Quietly. Smiling. Picking and placing at a different place, The pickle jar. My backyard was truly her whole World. The feeling has just sank in, In those moments with her, I was witnessing Innocence. Written January 11th, 2002 © on Jan 10 2002 09:26 PM PST 18 • 0 • 10
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"She was truly..."