I want to be that little girl

who ran barefoot through puddles

and squished mud between her toes

and made mud cookies

that baked in the sun

that little girl

who ran through corn fields

and hay fields

and crawled under fences

to stand up on a hill

and wait with arms wide open

for the wind to scurry

up the hill and blow on her little face

I want to be that little girl

who stopped short at the sight of a daisy

and slowly walked eyefully by

as if passing by holy ground

that little girl who's stomache would not turn

but remained straight eyes unwavering

at the site of evil doers

and stood strong in her silence

I want to be that little girl again