Maybe it was the wind that blew her to the ground.
Maybe a subtle hollow she hadn’t noticed brought her down.
Either way, she ends up in the dirt.
Earth covers the soft pink fabric draped over her
Like paint splattered on a porcelain canvas.
She looks to the graying skies,
through a pair of unknowing eyes.
Upon this land, here she lies,
Hailing wind tunes out her cries.
Is she scared, shocked, at peace?
We may never know until she decides to reveal her true identity
And show us her face, hopefully clearing up why she lays
Upon the earth all alone.
Until them, maybe she just tripped.
Maybe it was the wind.
Maybe it’s where she’s meant to be, all alone.
