Innocent Ballad

 

I remember a girl…
seated in the front door
facing the streets every morning;
Looking at each person  passing by.
Some was loading in distress;
the suffering
Some celebrating…
… the inducement of the morning.

I remember a girl...
Every afternoon, underneath
the foot of a lemon tree
bare-footed in the soil
of a beaten clay yard

Always singing; innocent ballads
Always dreaming; incandescent dreams

I remember a girl...
Thirst for life
Hunger to understand; frighten

I remember a girl...
Floating the narrow streets
Of washed rocks;
socket rocks, drained.
Flying without wings.

I remember a girl...
A beautiful girl.

-Jade da Rocha