Seventeen

She’s a golden girl

In her own mystical world

Wrapped in glitter and silk

Emerald eyes and skin of milk.

Writing away on a warm springtime day

Down to the river to dance, sing, and play.

‘Round Royall House Park and coffee at the Square

Dates down at Davis, “Oh, Diesel? Let’s meet there.”

She came to New England with dreams in her heart

The Midwestern accent always set her apart.

Fast like a New Yorker yet flows like the shore

Boston brought new people and opportunities at her door.

Seventeen months later she feels right at home

But wherever she is, she knows she’s never alone.

About Kristin Fehrman

Writer in Boston.
This entry was posted in boston, empowerment, home, lifestyle, mindfulness, symbolism and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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