A Recollection
It’s strange to have a memory
That no one else can share.
I asked my brother but he was
Too young, though he was there.
My bedroom lamp, with two glass globes
Was missing one and so
I placed my doll’s straw hat right where
That globe was meant to go.
Of course, it rested on the bulb
And soon began to smell
As smoke began to fill the air
And I began to yell.
My mother ran into the room
And fixed things as I cringed.
I never saw that lamp again;
The hat was slightly singed.
I wonder, were my mom alive,
If hearing this would spark
A recollection of that day
Which left, on me, a mark.
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