Toys Poem by Morgan Michaels
Toys
First unwrapped, each thinks itself best
prettiest, priciest, diciest,
to dress and undress.
Every year come more and more-
bumped from the shelf, they fall to the floor
and lay still.
Or get dropped
a purple while in the dark box,
musty, dusty, worn-out toys.
Only a few: the favorites,
peer year upon year, from within the cabinets
smiling, unblinking.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/26/2024 1:38:32 AM # 1.0.0.1119
