Red Dress Girl

A tiny daughter totters in the dirt
Attempting the mastery of walking
Dust fills the air
Mixed with diesel smoke
As massive trucks creep along the road
But the girl is oblivious
Her red dress tickles her legs
As she dances in the sun

Such a tiny girl
Probably under the age of two

Brother is close by
Hunched over a wash basin
Scrubbing yesterday's clothing
He bends his forehead into his shoulder
Wiping away the sweat, dust, and grime
His own shirt stained brown
Does he notice?
With rhythm, his hands return to harsh scrubbing

More trucks spit dust upon the children

Mother looks on
With desperate, tired brown eyes
She is preparing her mangoes to sell
Hopeful for customers
To buy her soft fruit
Because as pieces disappear from her bowl
Delicately balanced atop her head
There is money to care for her son and daughter

Will enough people buy today?
 Tomorrow?

Mother looks on
Staring into a bleak future
As her tiny daughter
Captures beauty in her uncertain steps
As she dances in the sun

Daughter's red dress moves as the wind
Painting the only speck of color
On the scene before my eyes.

June 25, 2012
Robin Beebe