Flashbulb memory                of a tiny                   pink shawl

A cherry blossom                  abalone                   on the moist skin

Of a toddler kept                   too long                  in warm talking-at spaces

Of a girl                                  enwrapped              to be seen as pretty

Of a goddess                         swaddled                 to hide her light

 

The pink shawl                      is gone                     now

There are steps                    to march                  and water

To protect                             and trees                  to grow

And petitions                        to sign                      and people

To save                                  from oceans            and famine

And poverty                         and lead                   and their own

Earthly neighbors               who turn                   a blind eye

                      shine on, little one, shine on

 

 


Sarah Bigham

Sarah Bigham lives in the United States with her kind chemist wife, three independent cats, an unwieldy herb garden, and several chronic pain conditions. Her work has garnered a Pushcart nomination and appears in a variety of great places for readers, writers, and listeners. Find her at www.sgbigham.com.