A rustic lass of early teens
sells raw diamonds on a pavement.
black stones are laid on a mat
small rocks  fetch her livelihood.

‘See, the stones can cut glass sheets,
all are genuine raw diamonds,
buy now or you miss a gem,
going cheap at two dimes each.'

Her face is *****, attire shabby,
hair unkempt, eyes sunny,
around the dullness, monotone
a tulip slowly unfurls petals..

She holds the reins of little brothers
a pair of kids in birthday suits.
Has the mother left her shadow
to teach the tricks of steering life?

I’ve bought a little piece
kept it in my glass show case
a simple, uncut, glittering stone
memoir of a youth to be.

7th. Nov. 2016