Barbies

barbies

We tried each other on

New best friends

Playing “Barbie” in our sixties.

A task not for the faint hearted.

She had gone on vacation the summer of 1965

Never returning to this life

That I know and love.

She was frozen in another time of

Long teased hair

Below the shoulders

That made her look years older.

An alien from another galaxy,

She cried “But men like long hair.”

While I cringed

Sharing my enlightenment

And love of books

With no one in particular…

Except “Barbie” chattering continuously

About internet websites of men

Loving women with long hair.

Me… not one to understand willingly

Or care that plastic is a fabric…

A fabric that has increasingly become

Quite unfamiliar to my soul.

All rights reserved.  ©2010 by Sara Fryd

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