Beginnings of March

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on March 5, 2015

There was she the eldest, tiny and round full of laughter and stories. She was who I went to for long talks and really funny moments we would cry so hard we’d cry. Her hair so white and her smile so bright. 

Then there is she the one that follows. Heart not as warm she is not as round. I go to her sometimes but not for long talks more for brief advice. But she is home and she reminds me of the eldest and that makes me smile.

Then there’s me the youngest, tiny and not so round. Will I be warm or cold? Will I listen to the one that follows or will I ignore? Will we die of laughter or smile just content? Who will I be like when it’s my turn 


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