She rests beneath an ancient apple tree
Golden hair and sparkling eyes that futures see.
Hands rest gently on her silver wolf called Monster,
To all but her,
he appears yet sleeping.
Her feet dangle
in the brook, gurgling beside,
Small fish nibble tiny toes...
lazy bees hum by her side.
Fingers cradle a tarnished lock
Containing past and future keys
Truth hangs in the balance
Stored in her heart, endlessly.
Stories told and fountains more still unsaid
Keep quiet company
within her head.
Janelle Gregory
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