THE HANDMADE DOLL FROM THE MUSEUM SHOP…
MEETS OUR DOG
by April Halprin Wayland
With birthday money,
I buy the one with pigtails
brown skin
white apron over her gingham dress
holding a pet duck.
I put them in the center
of our dining room table
so visitors can see her
and know how artsy
we are.
I stand in the sunny doorway
every morning
and look at her.
My whole body
laughs.
Our dog’s nose
is higher than the dining room table.
The doll’s left pigtail
comes loose from her scalp
in the encounter.
Now the doll and the duck live higher
on top of the dryer in our laundry room.
My friend Shirley sewed her left pigtail back on
and it looks fine
above her white bead smile.
No one knows how artsy we are.
I stand in the dark doorway
every morning
and my whole body
laughs.
Poetry Prompt:
A poem doesn’t have to have everything. Sometimes it’s just one thing: humor, language, image. Sometimes painting a clear word picture is enough. I think that staying in the present tense can mean there’s no wall between the poet and her readers.
It’s your turn. Draw us a word picture.