His Gift: A Doll’s Crib

In response to pronto’s poem,  In Denial     

 

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That’s another kind of prison.
it’s not the prince at all…
Anne Sexton, Briar Rose http://www.academia.edu/5397967

 
These bars perfectly describe this space
the cornered placement
away from the window, away from light

Inside, her china doll with its synthetic
ruby-red lipped smile and long lashed eyes
continuously closing against a plaything existence

Beneath, the sheeted mattress
its slow-seep blood stain of false feather comfort
its ticking of terrible lies

And here we have the hand
that drew up the plans
hewed the wood, shaped this world

You see, this is how it happens –
how small innocent birds come to live in cages

 

 

 

 

 

© belcanto 2017
critique and comments welcome.

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unforgettably good

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