VanGogh  young girl with Pinafore

She ran out into the rain
Gathering teardrops like a moist bouquet
Mist-maiden, naiad, sea-witch
She was ever reaching
For the tattered pages
Of all the tomorrows become yesterdays
And the doll in her arms
Cried with half-shut eyes
For all the broken promises she never knew

In the blue of the streetlamp
The dark settles heavy
Waiting for a precious patron
As she gropes through the darkness
Praying that her memories will come true
For tomorrow
                         and tomorrow

Wendy Lobb 1996