I Rocked the Baby on my Lap

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I was in the second grade –
my Mama cried on
C
hristmas day.

I rocked a baby on my lap –
So difficult to hear your Mama cry –

I hugged the doll tucked beneath 
our Christmas Tree –
it should have been my Mama.

What seems a hundred years
flew by – since I saw my Mama cry –
on Christmas day – 
when her Mama died.

Too young too understand – 
I found comfort as I hugged my doll, 
still I see my Mama’s tears.

In some old cardboard box she sleeps
in our attic – a doll who shed a million tears –
and Mama, she’s left this earth. 

One day I held my children to my breast,
stood tall, stood straight – on the day
we placed Mama down to rest –

some how I survived –
I never let my children see me cry.

(c)2012 all rights reserved – Nancy Duci Denofio

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