he was harmless but eccentric.
50 years old and lonely,
he’d never been with a woman.
he had a little girl’s dollhouse
he’d kept since childhood
when his sister abandoned it.
he dreamed of being
with pretty women
that he saw daily
on the city streets.
since all of them
ignored him
and he knew
none would ever
be with him,
he carved
little wooden dolls
that looked like them.
he kept the wooden dolls
in his little girl’s dollhouse
and dreamed that they
were real and loved him.
he talked to them
as if they were alive
gave them names
and put little doll
dresses on them.
he made up birthdays
for each doll
and bought tiny
christmas presents
for them all.
he talked sweetly
to the wooden dolls
and kissed each one
good night every night.
at age 55 he died
with 100 wooden dolls
in his dollhouse
and never knew
the love of
a real woman.
bob boyd
