Dollhouse


On loan from her older cousin
it had shiny painted walls.

She was four the day her mother
came home from the hospital
after several long months

and several electroshock treatments.
She ran and clung to her

but after a minute her mother
called her sticky chewing gum
and told her to let go.

The girl ran back to her room.
Now grown, she has no memory

of what she might have done there.
Her cousin says that when
the dollhouse was returned

there were black crayon scribbles
on every upstairs wall.

Claudia Gary


If you have any thoughts about this poem,  Claudia Gary would be pleased to hear them