Bones is a freshman who joined Impressions Magazine this year. She is majoring in Art with a planned focus in drawing & painting, and she has a Writing Communications minor.
Handmade toy holds the memories
Of a child I never knew,
Tears and fears, things near and dear,
Oh, how loudly I hear you.
“Being a kid is hard,” child says,
“Mother, you’ll never know.”
And mother laughs and rolls her eyes,
And says “Child, what have you to show?”
And the child showed her a friend,
Seafoam green and round,
Beginners crochet and loose embroidery,
And limbs that drooped way down.
Child joys in the act of creation,
And to him, the friend is true.
But to mother, the skill is weak,
And the green is an unrealistic hue.
I found him one day, buried in a shelf
In an old thrift store
I loved the color, recognized the skill
And I joyed like a child once more.
I wonder, though, about its creator,
And if my theory is true,
It’s just a thought, but oh, mock child,
How loudly I hear you.