The Girl A poem by payton Hairston

She is fond of adventure, says the colorful display of pins on the map.

She is a bookworm, whispers the neatly stacked books.

She is a wordsmith, called the pencil and paper on the desk.

She is a mutt lover, says the pound dog on the bog bed.

She is a nature lover, says the TV paused on Animal Planet and the trees approaching their Winter sleep outside her window.

She has young siblings, giggle the toys strewn across the house and the green and blue high chair at the table.

She likes being connected with family, says the phone and letter on the counter.

She is torn between two homes, call the plane tickets on the Table.

THE END

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