The Bottle of Medicine

Her legs were thin, brown and bare
And eyes wide
With not innocent wonder
But a wise horror
She sped through the narrow lanes
She must reach
To save the soul
Trapped in moribund sheets
This bottle of medicine
Must be there in time
Or she’d be alone and orphaned
How far now?
How much ground to cover?
And later she thought
If there were a God
He won’t have let her collide
But those heartless tyres
They marked her little legs
Till the bottle of medicine
Crashed
There had only been one
Her pockets were empty and yearning
Her toes squirmed
The brown liquid reproached them
With it’s touch
She looked at her blood
Like it were a stranger’s
And ignored it with cruel disrespect
But as she slowly walked home
With zombied numbness
They followed her loyal
Puppy-dog like
Her red footprints
Mixed with the summer dust