Julia, At Four Poem by Mary Fumento

Away you raced, wind in your soul
Perfume personality, no cares of your own
Elfin feet flew over endless reaching shore
Life a music-box joyride, waiting for you at four

Miniature maturing mind enveloping the sky
As if made witness to personal miracles there
You watched luminous clouds and birds and planes go by
As if by looking and dreaming even a child could fly

But away from my grasp you suddenly tore
And grasped at the elusive world you saw
Not noticing the danger that lurked in store
Fragile, falling Julia, broken and dying at four

Alone I remain, I wait, I endure
For Julia, who comes to visit no mor