Lost. Missed. poem by Brenda Davis Harsham (LOST AND FOUND Poetry and Prose Series)

Here is a tear-jerker from my past. In a new house, new neighborhood and BAM! A day to remember… Have a magical rest of the weekend!

Silver Birch Press

BrendaBlankieLost. Missed.
by Brenda Davis Harsham

Break my arm
on a dare,
climbing aboard
a rusty, swing set beam.

Father freaks:
“Move your fingers!”
“NO!” word swims
in a red-faced, salty ocean.

Dad wraps arm
in a newspaper.
Blankie dries
every tear. Fingers wiggle.

That night. Sleepless.
Arm throbs. I
realize Blankie
is across town, at the ER.

Parents? “No way.”
Dare? Done.
Courage? Won.
Blankie? Bye. Lost. Missed.

AUTHOR’S PHOTO CAPTION: Me, at two, holding Blankie — lost but not forgotten.

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: I broke my arm around age six. I grew up in the tough love generation. My stepmother was probably happy that blankie was gone and her daughter on the way toward growing up. Not many kids had blankies in first grade. At that age, I didn’t understand how tired parents can be after a day like that one. I do now. These days, I agree…

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24 thoughts on “Lost. Missed. poem by Brenda Davis Harsham (LOST AND FOUND Poetry and Prose Series)

  1. You have a great memory, for such an early age… lovely photo of you too!! I never had a blankie.. don’t think I had anything I was clingy with, not sure why. I guess it saved me a lot of heartache in giving them up. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    • Some of that is based on family retellings, and some based on my memory. The parts I remember myself best are refusing to wiggle my fingers. I thought my dad was nuts for wanting me to move them. Eventually I moved them to get him to leave me alone. And losing my blankie. Although, now that I’m a parent, I understand their point of view better. The heartache has passed. 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

  2. A hand sewn gown that stays the course of time, and colors embued into the heart of minds are this poem’s arm. It reaches out to what we need to be reminded of. Lovely, Brenda!

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  3. So great to read your extraordinary work again Brenda. I do remember mine, what symbolized my “blankie” ~ oh, the act of soothing. Happy Sunday to you Brenda, before you know it your children will be off and understanding this time as a young adult.

    Liked by 1 person

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