Street Urchin


The air is still and crisp and harsh,
soft sounds broke through the dawn;
I heard quick crunching coming close,
is it child or fawn?

Small red shoes and anorak,
a little girl beneath,
ran swiftly through the cobbled streets,
with tiny chattering teeth.

And in her wake faint footprints lie
in snow upon the ground,
that lead to where she slept and froze,
and where her corpse is found.

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