poems

The Good Doll

The Good Doll

20/06/2017

Dainty was the correct term despite the word being one I’d yet to learn.

I was five and small, my dress below the ankles was dragged along the hall.

The window wept sunlight warming my hair.

I was small but she was dainty.

Scarlet I called her because I knew no other.

We played by ourselves and played with our mother.

 

© G.P Williamson 2017

 

 

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