When I was Little I named all of my baby-dolls Sarah.
I have no recollection of where I first heard the name,
Or why I was so attached to it.
There was one Sarah that was small and pink.
Her head was like an infant, shriveled potato.
My hand slipped inside her nursing gown
And I brought her to life with the slightest
Movement of my fingers.
She could rub her eyes,
Turn her head from side to side
And press her face into my stomach.
Somehow she was lost
Or sold in a move.
It’s funny how
Guilt feels the same
No matter what your age.
Very nice. I am sure Sarah made someone else happy as they made her rub her eyes and turn her head and press her face into their stomach. Sometimes your loss is an infinite gain for someone else so you have done well in passing Sarah on. Welcome to the world of blogging! Keep up the good work. :)
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