Dolls
Fever brings me
a pile of white dolls
in the evening light
which seeps, tired,
through woodwork.
They have empty faces
and sundered limbs
poor delphic things
and I don’t even know
where their home is,
Did you ever expect
them to be this perfect?
That is, before I sweep
them into a dustpan,
before I pour them
in to the red bin.
Abigail Price was born and brought up in West Wales and now lives in Devon. She recently gained an MA with Merit in Creative Writing at Keele University. She was shortlisted for the Roy Fisher Prize for Poetry 2011 and her work will appear in an anthology. She is Features Editor of a national magazine, and a keen pianist and singer.