At my core
I am just a small, crocheted girl
Laying in the bottom of my childhood treasure chest
In the same pink dress
With only half of my blonde hair
Sewn on to my head
A blank cotton face
Only blue eyes stitched in
And Momma always said:
“I’ll get to it”
I’m sorry
she said
I hope that she meant it.
My older sisters loved their crochet girls
My mother loved to make them
I know she grew so tired over the years
But how could I ever blame her