If you can just imagine what it was like living with
eleven people in our house on Midland Row
Would you even hazard a guess as to what
happened to my doll all those years ago?
I remember that doll, medium length dark hair,
something like mine, brown eyes not like mine
immovable joints, and straight shaped body,
arms and legs, not that attractive really
except in a child’s eyes.
I remember dressing that doll with the
only outfit she came with, thinking she
doesn’t do much so she doesn’t get dirty
and she mostly lay in a shoe box under my bed.
With five sisters I’m not so sure that she was
protected from their eager fingers, when their
oldest sister was not around to see them.
I guess into my teenage years the doll
lost its appeal and real people became more
my cup of tea, so to speak.
And perhaps some other little girls took delight
in unclasping the hapses and removing her clothes
and then putting them all back on again before I got home.
I don’t know what happened to that doll and
I figure I only had one doll growing up, but in my
mind she’s still laying in that shoe box under my bed,
only to be taken out in my middle aged head.