Several years ago, I wrote this poem for Zoe Bonham.  It is included in "Big Questions, Little Sleep."

Zoe

The trip began as any other

Something lovingly packed into a case

For transport to another place.

The trip ended as any other

Something lovingly packed into a case

For transport to another place.

A doll’s case, a coffin,

Both containing a cold, flat, rigid form,

Lid shut tightly against the light.

A doll’s longsighted eyes to match your dad’s

Eyes that look beyond, behind, or through you,

Reflecting indefinite thoughts, mirroring the love from your own eyes within theirs.

A doll’s spun and woven hair

To match the slander spun and woven of the father,

But it is only the father of lies defaming, if that’s all that you would hear. 

While thirsting for the truth of his heart,

Do not drink from the spigot of muddy water,

Filled with heavy metals that crush your spirit.

You missed him, always hoping that he would return,

His absence not annunciating a lack of love for you,

His hopes for you and your future hinged on his current job.

The doll’s mouth does not move

But she speaks loudly of how much you were on his mind.

She represents the connection sought across the distant miles.

If you bring her into the light,

You will see the truth,

Her mere presence disclosing all you need to know to quench your soul.