A quasi-urchin making up in requests
What she lacked in a tug-of-war reality
A forever fleeting Cabbage Patch Kid
The string perdurably, charmingly pulled
“Gimme!” spelled on brown eyes of want
Atomic energy…with dusky blond hair
Now, a beautiful young woman, forging
Life’s uncertain and tumultuous waters
A devoted mother and loving wife
The “Patch String” slightly frayed from use
Yet, a few thousand yesterdays ago
A little rag-a-muffin with endless suggestions
Proceeded to “assist” a pair of old friends
To move old furniture in an old truck
A task arduous and stiflingly mundane
Still, this day would be proven different
For the “doll” in the center seat, knew not
The concept of boredom, adventure was her game
Horses passed in fields were “so pretty”
And lumbering cows excitedly “so big”
The truck’s static prone radio was overwhelmed
For youth now danced to tunes of windshield whimsy
“Can we stop and get a Slurpee Daddy…can we!?”
“I gotta go pee Daddy…and ‘they’ have ice cream cones!”
Resistance was futile…dolls always know what strings to pull
Lips smacked and a smallish tongue swirled
The
mouth now occupied, in tune with droning wheels
Sleepy time loomed on the horizon as did our destination
But do a doll’s eyes truly rest?
For just as the Sandman approached…
A carpet of grass! Monkey bars illumed by sinking sun!
Drooping eyelids now sparkled, untied shoes fidgeted madly
“Can we Daddy? Can we stop at the park? Please Daddy!?”
But Daddy and “Uncle” were tired;
Wizened eyes met ‘cross a mop top
“No Baby Girl…not this time…we’ve had a long day…
You got your ice cream…it’s late…and time to go home.”
Tiny tears slid down smudged cheeks and
dried ice cream
Daddy and I used a towel to make clean spots…one to a side
The park and its unused wonders
Faded into sunset and rear view mirror
And the Cabbage Patch Kid,
A close acquaintance with disappointment
Retracted her string, quiet ensued,
Years and park dancing ‘top memories pages
Perhaps one day, on tomorrow’s twilight,
She and I will venture forth
Through short grass and long recollections
to explore that playground
And a new little “monkey” will most decidedly
be accompanying us
To blaze trails through the sand…
with ice cream sticky
on giggling lips
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