Paper Dolls

Paper Dolls

The Runner thinking of onions peels in a still life rotting away-
years of running,
bones still light, the step still light.
But running, running, on fallen leaves:
onions peels the color of fall.


A ballet dancer the color of pavement.
Cardboard arms, gray, outstretched,
slightly ripped, a little person without hands or feet,
her umbrella lost, her people lost,
she had become flat.

Mary Poppins fallen from the sky,
gray against the colors of fall.

Smaller than a dollar bill, the ground shook her as the runner ran by.

A Walker thinking of trees,
a street in a tunnel
and gingerbread houses lined in a row,
each their own story
of Sunday dinners, prom dresses, home from college,
the limousine to the church,
and then Sunday dinners, prom dresses,
home from college, waiting in the church.

The smell of a baby.

and the cut-out doll
abandoned, by her feet
the color of pavement.


How perfect that she is gray, no colors, no design, just her arms outstretched. The Proud Stance, the long dress, a bonnet.
Mary Poppins fallen from the sky:
a Pioneer from the Past, a Little Person gracing this side of the rainbow,
amongst the onion peels, the wrinkled faces;
a cutout doll.