when she was 13, she drove across the continent.
the beginning of growing up and chasing the horizon,
when she spins her skirt twirls in a perfect circle.
bare arms and with bells tied to the ribbons
in her braids, it is hard not to see there's music there.
in the winter, she knit 8 scarves,
all of which she lost by june.
5 of them were various shades of red,
and the other 3 were pastel shades, she thinks,
but colors that pale are hard to remember.
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