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Childhood cracked
.
The doll fell
and was never picked up.
It fell by the curb
in a lucid slumber
of inarticulate words
like a dew drop
on ice.
Nothing was coveted,
the chant grew like the moon
as the month moved on.
What was cold inside was a needle
of sharp divide and the impact
of unbuffered death.
Into this autumn
the doll fell
and the meridian of grace
was at last
on the table.
.
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Copyright © 2008 by Allison Grayhurst
amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst
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First published in “Bewildering Stories”, 2011
http://www.bewilderingstories.com/issue448/childhood_cracked.html
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Won Bewildering Stories’ “The 2011 Mariner Award for Short Poetry”
http://www.bewilderingstories.com/anthologies/AR11.html 
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You can listen to the poem by clicking below:
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