A little girl’s bike
Has lain, stranded,
In the secret garden
For weeks…

Lonely —
longing for lanky legs
to return —
So it can reclaim
Its purpose,
Joy actualised!

To end there...
would be foolish,
What's happened to that little girl;
is she hurt and in hospital?
is she stolen, stapled to a wall by a stranger's stare?
is she warm at home enveloped from the frigid air?

Inanimate object --
Where we hold the multiple meanings.

I search the online news
and stray streets for any clues,
little girl I hope you're okay
and your smile wasn't stolen or snuffed without your say!

Joy interrupted...