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Anna

Anna

Little girl, master of reason, stoops to inspect a pine cone and a truck swerves into the other lane.
She put on her running shoes in preparation and sought out her most perfect purse lined in hot pink satin.
Skipping along the path chosen, laughter and curiosity made/rise into companions.
Somersaults and afternoon thrills pave way for feeding faeries- to mend their broken wings.
Velvet lined acorn caps, pleasing to the touch, make the most perfect bowls to balance between branches.

The work is done, the fun is had, the little girl is ready to walk home. But first, she makes time to swing
from every branch she can reach. She has forgotten she was tired.
And her new friend carries her purse of pine cones all the way home without being asked.
She rewards him with a tea party and offers him a deal on a song.
The trade is made; she slips a dollar in her pocket and inspects his cup.

Patch of grass played in as a park, imagine without abandon
to the soul you have always been.

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