Literary Yard

Search for meaning

By: Kimberly Potter Kendrick


A screaming baby
Vicious tantrums as a child
A voice resounding; resembling the striking a wrong note on the piano
Living in a fantasy world making friends with her dolls
With them she shared all her ideas, fears, even her list for Santa

She yelled
Stomped her feet
No one seemed to notice
Her voice vanished
Within her mind she listened to herself

Others were about the house
She dare not intrude
Silent torture unbearable
Imperceptible she became
Calculating days until she could flee, a realization emerged
Her voice forgotten; unable to recall the sound
Vivid recollection of retorts from those about the house

What happened to that little girl?
She struggled to color an apple red, creating a vibrant rainbow instead
Crayons seized
All the crayons, excluding red

Teachers, color the apple red
Those about the house, color the apple red
Other children, just color the apple red
She could not color the apple red
Concealed with her hands was not an apple
Gradually revealing a red rainbow
Into her imaginary box she crawled

She did not run, nor walk
Merely drifted away
Traveling as if a leaf in the wind
She meandered, rarely lingering beyond a few weeks
Unearthing her voice, she strolled along humming
Content, always with a rainbow on her back
Around her, life proceeded

Returning to the place where dolls were her friends
In disbelief, widening her eyes to distinctly perceive four red apples
Recognizing those about the house
The voice restored utters not a sound
No yelling, no stomping
Whichever direction she steps, the red apples shift
Screaming vehemently, her voice reverberated painting a flamboyant rainbow
In an impeccable queue stood the red apples
Familiar silence
It’s so quiet; she hears it


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