“What we remember from childhood we remember forever –

permanent ghosts, stamped, inked, imprinted, eternally seen.”

Cynthia Ozick

Strolling through the woods

At the end of November

Enjoying the tranquility

When I suddenly remember

My thoughts become frozen

Back in Nineteen Fifty Five

She’s standing just ahead

And she’s very much alive

This is where I spotted her

Dressed in her pink snowsuit

She was standing right there

With shiny black rubber boots

Holding her father’s hand

On this frigid autumn day

They’re laughing and talking

When she gets the urge to play

She breaks her father’s grip

And goes racing up the river

Her father cries out a warning

As the thin ice begins to quiver

Soon the fragile river ice cracks

And her pink snowsuit disappears

Her father’s anguish echoes loudly

As his shouts mingle with his tears

As I stood frozen on this river bank

That cold autumn day so long ago

I watched them bring her body out

It now looked so lifeless and so cold

As I continue on my journey today

I try to shake this image from my mind

But I just can’t seem to do that right now

It’s still much too vividly frozen in time

Life can often be so very cruel

For so many of earth’s innocents

I somberly walk on through these frozen woods

Still picturing that little lost girl in this long ago event

©2005, Ed Kostro