When I was a boy
My father used to tell me it was a man’s world
And to grow up meant to trade comfort for duty
My mother taught me how to make art
I used to watch her carve kokeshi every day
Their faces marked with funny little grins
Like they were in on a joke that only the two of us understood
And when she died it felt like a part of me went with her
So, I preserved the rest of my childhood inside a kokeshi
Innocence chiseled in wood
Sculpted out of memory
Sometimes, my daughter takes hold of the child I once was
And runs around the garden laughing and yelling
When she squeezes too hard I let her know
And I tell her stories of obaasan
Until the day comes when she’s making figurines for her own family
And we’re all just raw material stacked on shelves
Destined to outlive our bodies
3 thoughts on “Yadoru”
Lovely dolls 🌸
This is beautifully articulated.
It made me think of James Brown’s “It’s a man’s man’s world” song.
Beautifully written. Thanks.