Walking

I just re-found my old poetry journal (a phenomenon that's closer to time-travel than anything I've found so far), so the next few posts will be glimpses into the mind of early-teen-Hillary. Brace yourself.

She thought of her hurt
and kept walking.
She thought of her pain
and kept walking.

She thought of the weather,
she thought of the rain,
she ket walking.

Past her tears,
past her memories,
past her fears
she walked.

Past her home,
past her school,
past her town
she walked.

Through her past,
through her present,
through her future
she walked.

She never stopped,
and no one knew
where she was going
or what she'd gone through.

She may have had failures,
she may have had shame,
but, through it all,
God knew her name.
(2003)