2012/doll

My grade school friend
emails to say I was
pretty, smart, and
had a great personality.
At first I think how sweet
of her to say so.
Then I consider forwarding
it to my spouse as proof.
weighing whether to forward
her email as proof
(to see if you’d believe it)
But in a moment the
loss sinks in.
Finally, like the doll
who came at Christmas
with a brush and comb
and when I brushed her hair
the curl all left
and all the permanents my
sister and I tried
never brought it back.
Disappointment dogged
my days with that
doll, failure and self
recrimination at
my ignorance.
What was I to have done
with that brush,
put it on the dresser
she didn’t have,
let it sit idle
like my aunts’s collection
of hair safes and Evening
in Paris cologne bottles.
Her name was Patty,
her mane did not
last through Christmas.
I learned early
not everything lost
can be regained.
When the share croppers
left they took Patty
with them, or so
my mother said,
I’ll never know,
of course. Looking back
it seems unlikely.
Perhaps my mother tired
of looking at this straight
haired doll or thought her straight-haired daughter
would be better of without
her.
Patty disappeared,
I never forgot her.
But somehow did
forget my great
personality,
misplaced like glasses
or keys.
I learned early
not everything
lost can be regained.

8/11/12