WHERE’D YOU GO, LITTLE GIRL
(For Sheryl)
Where did you go, Little Girl,
Weren’t you just here?
It seems we just played dolls and house
Or was that yesteryear?
Didn’t we tea party yesterday
(It seems so to me)
As we dressed your lovely little dolls
In all their finery
My recollections are vivid
Of blond be-ribboned curls
And dresses full of ruffles and lace
Like most little girls.
Too quick you leave behind you
That sweet adorable age
But I will treasure always
Memories of that stage
Like the many clever comments
And cute antics seen
And stories galore about pretend friends
Mr. Ralph and sweet Charlene
Mr. Ralph (your remarkable Teacher)
Blew smoke rings out his ears
Sweet Charlene (your unseen friend)
Shared secrets, hopes, and fears
Of course, there were endless questions
Like, “How does it make it dark?”
“Does dandruff have legs, Mom?”
And “How come cats don’t bark?”
When others kept annoying you
You’d say, as you frowned
“Will you guys leave me alone?”
And quit foodle-doodelin’ around
You even had a cuss word
(At least in your view)
When angry at Dave, you’d say
“Oh you, you, you Harriet, you.”
Whenever you were naughty
Or erred in some way
You tried to blame our little dog
To lead my thoughts astray.
With a question in your voice
(So it wouldn’t be a lie)
You hoped to escape punishment
By giving this reply
“Maybe Lucky did it, Mama?”
Then, trying to be coy
You’d turn to the dog, scolding –
“Lucky, you’re a bad bad boy!”
I’ll never forget your helpfulness
Concerning the cat, one day
When you helped her with her grooming
(Much to my dismay)
When Calico came to the kitchen
Looking scruffy and somewhat wet
I asked you what had happened
To your furry little pet
Then looking very wise, you said,
“I just happened to think
That since her hands are very small
And she can’t reach the sink
It’s hard for her to wash herself
She needs someone to help her
So I kept licking MY hand, too
And I’d rub it on her fur.”
The things that I’ve related here
Are treasures in my mind
Recalling feelings from the past
Of the sweetest kind
Told here with warm nostalgia
Each incident the truth
Meant only to recall for us
A picture of your youth
And though they’re only samples
From time, as you grew
They’ll always be remembered
As little bits of you.
8/10/58
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