With mulberries,
irresistible,
Staring at her,
An idea appeared
in the little girl’s mind.
The world, painted
purple,
Was waiting
For her, only her,
Up in the air.
And she, the only
one,
To shield them
From the brutal
warriors
Living in the
neighborhood,
Was their heroic,
super savior.
She had to save
them, or
Other children
would squeeze them
With their buck
teeth and clown feet.
For the sake of
mulberries
She marched toward
the wooden ladder
Climbing up,
Longing to reach
the dreamy world of sweet mulberries,
And stepping on
the rusty nails of the last rung,
The girl was
noticed soon,
In her red, dirty
breeches and muddy sneakers.
Grandma hollering to
come down
Hobbling on the
path,
She only heard the
dark buzzing bees,
Accompanied by the
sweet mulberries.
The tired wood
Of the last rung
Cracked under her
feet;
The ladder was
gone now
Leaving her alone
on this feat.
Her tiny hands
clenching the old tree,
She pulled herself
up quickly.
Although it was
quite early,
The girl had to
learn
How to survive on
her own
In a tree full of
flies, prickles and bees
Without a ladder
Always ready to
raise her up to sky.
