Burning Doll House Poem by Jan Oskar Hansen
Burning Doll House
I could see the smoke coming.
from the attic
the thing is the house of dolls
was not on fire
only the figures that once was cherished.
I put the ashes of someone's childhood
in a box of wood.
One with golden handles.
Later did I realised that all must go
even those nearest to our heart.
Tuesday, February 26, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: story
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5/1/2024 1:06:43 PM # 1.0.0.1119
