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sometimes.
Laura
at the front door,
with a pram.
Or holding a baby.
Smiling. Apologising.
Asking if she could come in.
Or with an older child, the two of them
holding hands.
The child too shy to talk to Ginny, at first.
Or the child grown old enough to
ask questions, to
want answers, to
make her own way to Ginny’s house.
A strange child standing at the door.
So, of course.
When Ginny saw this girl in the garden,
under the apple tree.
She did wonder.
The girl had so much of Laura about her.
*
She’d asked her to leave, but
she wanted her to say who she was.
She wanted to know who she was.
So she kept her talking.
She asked how she liked the apple, and
the girl shrugged.
She told her she’d picked it a bit early, and it would likely be sour.
The girl shrugged.
She asked if she’d hurt herself coming over the fence.
