“The Lost”


dollstroller

“A look and a hug; a soft hug.  I press the doll to my breast and smile, trying to recapture those moments…

Then my Aunt says, ‘Don’t you remember playing with her?  I found her in my attic and thought you might get a kick out of seeing her again.’

It is shocking to see something you played with at age five and now you are fifty-five.   An abandoned love.  I try to grasp her memory.  I hold her like a baby.  The wonder, hope, and spirit might rise again within me so I might own her.   But that five year old girl gone; abandoned.  The giggles and kisses blurred, buried and put away in the attic years ago.”

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dVerse

Poets Pub

Rantings Of A Third Kind

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