Little faith

A little girl sat crying
In front of the cold, hard
Fireplace, empty of it's
Once dancing, glowing embers.

Her glance glided across the
Empty. stone cold room
Where her mother once sat
Sewing with her back to a corner.

"I will be going to the
Market," she'd said, nodding
To the the pile of cloth,
Products of her nighttime labour.

But the market seemed
To have swallowed the mother,
Leaving the little girl
Alone for the first time.

"Little Faith, Little Faith,
Have a little faith, Little Faith,"
A voice in her head seemed to say
Through her tears and quiet sobs.

Little Faith with little faith
Opened the wooden door to
Her little house and stood
Facing the waning sunlight.

With her little faith falling,
Little Faith looked up and
Saw a shadow, legs, her mother's
Dress and her mother's face,
Smiling at Little Faith.