Frances Bloomed

Frances

She ran through the grass, this field of green, so fast
Tried and true
She grew

And shrunk
And grew again

Laughing and crying,
She lived long through the grim and grit and triumphs of her journey to gold

Old and young and now new like dew

She ran through the grass, this field of green, so fast

Like the blink of an eye

She tried

Brave and bold
Rise

She rose

"God, am I your child?"
Yes, child, you are mine.

She ran through the grass, this field of green, so fast

Girl to lover and wife to mother
all the while thinking and thinking and thinking
And balking and dancing
And singing.

Friend.

There she is.
Frances. I see you.

I knew you.

Frances

You ran so fast through the field of flowers,
Blossoming and "metamorphosizing,"
Dropping lovely and lively, bittersweet peddles all along the way.