Little Dark Stupa Girl

by Pam McNew

he fell for a traveling girl,

a rambling girl,

a little dark stupa girl whose

bare feet walked

highways and roadways and

paths through the woods.

 

he fell for the girl,

after she crossed his plowed field,

and stooped to sift his earth

between her fingers.

he knew he was lost,

when she licked the crumbs

from the palm of her hand

and smiled at the taste.

 

he tried to capture her heart

with his fruits and his vegetables,

his meats, pink and beige,

his plump farmhouse planted ley-land center,

but she only laughed against his fine blonde hair,

the sound of her mirth

winding about barn and shed

and corn crib full of grain.

 

she tried to explain she needed to rove,

to discover and gift, acknowledge, explore.

she spread her arms,

encompassing the world,

but with his disbelief,

they dropped to her side.

 

he fell for a traveling girl,

a rambling girl,

and when she left,

as quietly as she had arrived,

her pockets filled with autumnal seed,

he had no choice

but to await the spring

and follow the trail she had sown.

"Little Dark Stupa Girl" copyright © Pam McNew 2005

About the Author:

Pam McNew has published verse in Snow Monkey, ChiZine, and Strange Horizons.  She occasionally contributes reviews and interviews at Lit Haven, an online publication presenting discussion of fiction, poetry, and writing markets. 

Lone Star Stories * Speculative Fiction and Poetry * Copyright © 2003-2005