Little beautiful things by Keren-happuch Garba (17, Nigeria)

The only thing that felt real before her foot touched the pool
Was the dead leaf that licked its own reflection. 
The wind was startled
And she could see it from the way it brushed her hair.

---

Spinning, it may get whisked away 
Into the air, upon another soil
Far from its roots, buried,
And given rest, 
Until the sand and earthworms accept it,
Seeing life and substance coexist
And they all become a part of each other 
As dew binds them. 
And so little beautiful things
Tender to imbuements,
Speckles of wonder and flickers of hope.