Bloodied, she stood at the door-step.
Droplets of nascent red slid down
the pink of her lips –
submerging with the rusty pattern of old blood
– now dried and dusty.
Her eyes spoke of disbelief,
rimmed with steady haze of moist tears.
The twinkle, now replaced with
the dark pall of a bloodied pain.
Her cheeks flushed now and then
– alternating between pain and more pain.
With trembling fingers she held out
– the little memento of lost infancy
– her first milk tooth!