A toy

I have a sawdust in my head. I am a toy. Hands and legs made of rugs are on the strings. The legs shuffle and arms move trying to catch a bowl, a butterfly - never catching anything. The hands clasp handful of air. Relax, relax. Mouth is moving. I don't hear a sound. Hearing is shutting off. Suddenly I can not talk. It doesn't make any sense. It's senseless. Strings hang from the hook. Puppets are sleeping until next show. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville,4/2/2012