Joanna Gilman Hyde

 Out of The Remains
of My Mother’s Attic
Out of The Remains
of My Last Half-a-Century
I have salvaged
The Fullness of My Feminine Form
My Ballerina Doll
bought for Me by My Grandmother
after I begged & begged
for a tubby mechanical blond
I watched over & over
in a television Christmas ad
twirling madly in a Little Girl’s Fantasy

 My Grandmother from Alabama took Me
into New York City
to pick any doll I wanted
when there stood only one Ballerina
on the shelves & shelves —
I took Her —
staring distant and blue eyed
with red haired curls elaborately styled
She was the most beautiful Doll
I had ever Touched
She was My Ornament Extraordinaire
never to be played with
never to be named

 She is still dressed like a Degas Ballerina
with Black Ribbon Around Her Neck
sparkles on Her Tutu
She stands stiff and…