Baby Blue at the Seams

Note to a Reader: This wasn’t written to be poetic or as poetry, and I don’t technically consider it to be either. This was a writing warm-up one morning, decided to describe a little girl I saw at a coffeeshop as quickly as I could. Found it in my notes, and I kinda like it.

Olive skin, button nose, pink and blue from head to toe, pink bow hair, not a care, chomping cookie, playing hooky… No, she’s too young for school. Maybe three years old. Cute as can be. Purple little tennis shoes. Mostly pink baby track suit, baby blue piping at the seams.

Dark eyes. A little smile! I’m the only person in her eyeline; she’s smiling at me. Learning. Every person she sees expands her definition of “human” at this age. She hasn’t had the pleasure and pain of meeting too many of us yet.

She’s toddling away now. Carrying her pink little thermos. Uncertain steps. Walking into her future.

I feel so badly. I’m so sad for her.