She Was The Girl

She was the girl
with the long dark hair
we were always jealous of.
And she played with my sister more,
and I played with her brother.
We were fishing in a river,
minnows in paper cups.
The sun was hot,
the water cold,
and all our feet were numb.
And we were giggling,
stepping on rocks,
and slipping
now and then.
We were in our own
little world.
Don't know where
our parents went.
And we have pictures
of that day,
but it's clearer
in my head.
The sounds, the smells,
the rushing cold,
the dripping
of our clothes.
And looking back,
I'd never guess
that she would die
so young.
And we were laughing
and taking for granted
the day
would never end.