Girl About to Sink into Mudhole

There is a book of photographs of China. It was once my book but as with all things moving with us in time, it has fallen off somewhere along my path. There is a photo inside of a young girl trapped in mud. She has sunk well into it, and will not be saved.

The horrifying aspect of that photo came unglued from the image and lodged itself in my spirit, a splinter of sorts, an ice sword as if from a fairy tale for the far north of ice that cannot melt.

We cannot turn away from her
And we can do nothing

Her eyes are already accepting of this surrender of everything
As if to say
Just go, this is my fate
Pay attention to your own

Where is the rope?
Is there not an ox nearby?
Two strong horses?

But no.
She will sink
Like the glaciers will melt
She will be gone

Where is a truck and rope
Where is the simple solution
So needed
So much not there

The girl sinking into mud
Without hope of rescue
even though it is possible
Just not for her