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Where are you going little girl?

the wooden boat
on one end the little girl with her paddle
a little longer than her frail body
then her mother and her younger sister
under a yellow umbrella against the sun

i can feel her firm tiny hands that hold the paddle
stab the river and stir to make this murkiness
she holds it on clear directions she struggles to push
the water to move the boat
as the sun scorches her brown skin

shiny and thin and yet so unfrightened
i am asking the philosophical question

to you elvi where are they going?
and you where are you going too?

do not answer me with the name of a place
it is the usual answer, tell me more about what i do not know

the one that stirs the river that one that pushes the boat
the one that must make the mother fold her umbrella
the one that must make the little girl stop her paddling

the answer that exhausts all options
the one that must make us shift our paradigms

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Added by Poetry Lover
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