The Marionette
By Karen Hecht Springer
August 6, 2012
A marionette puppet
Soulless doll eyes in a porcelain face
Framed with a brunette halo of lushness
Stares blankly
Nodding up and down as Minuet in D plays
He said he knew what was best
The strings jerked once, twice
Pulled taut, and a little too hard
She knew better than to break the twine
So she danced and dallied
Her china shoes so nimble
And never stumbled
Until the day she bit the bit
Stood straight
For the first time in all the years
And said,
“I take myself back”
Lying shattered on the cold tile floor
She whispered
“It was worth it”
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