Hannah Foo-Allsopp, Grade 10
I remember those small dresses she
Used to wear
When she was a child;
The day she came home,
Her little body in my arms
In the hot warm sun; she began to cry.
Her small hand held on to my finger
As I gently placed her on the soft blanket.
The room so quiet that I slowly drifted off to sleep.
I woke in her room holding her dress wondering
If she still remembers that day too.
A knock on the door.
She was there crying.