Emilia

Digging in the mud
her hands dancing in the dark mire
her face an abstract goo painting
she’s so happy in her world
of being one with the earth
Her pink shorts sport stiff splotches
of drying mud and
her once-white t-shirt is now
a dusky polka dot masterpiece
And then as her mama watches
she scoops a handful of
the glistening wet dirt
and shoves it into her mouth
No, mama yells
but she just spits it out
her small white teeth looking like
an old man’s tobacco-stained dentures
and she giggles
and laughs
and laughs
Because she is a fearless four-year-old
and there’s nothing more wonderful
in the world than that