On the shelf
she was feeble.
She took the fall
and cracked her neck.
Once a doll,
turned to pieces
on the floor.

In the hospital,
on the table,
all tied up
with Shirley Temple.
Mama bade them
fix her,
this Daisy of her youth.

They stitched her up
and sent her home,
back to a no-good son.
Mama had always loved
dear Daisy more,
for she was much more quiet.

When mama...