Plush Toys

Behind my closet doors, they follow me,

the glassy eyes of all my cuddly toys:

the sun-bleached remnants of my outgrown childhood

are calling to me with a single voice.

"Regina, why did you abandon us?"

At night, I hear my bears and bunnies sigh –

but in the morning, their old shelf is quiet

and, packing up my books, I pass them by.

I used to carry puppies in my pockets.

I used to sleep with cats tucked in my arm.

I close the closet – If I could, I'd lock it.

I don't need teddy bears to keep me warm.

My toys now gather dust, until the day

a child, once more, will take them out to play.