The Glass Doll

As the reed of the oboe cries out with music,

My heart yearns

To break the glass doll

Others have chosen to encase me in.

I am a strong being.

My strength is welled up deep within my soul.

I do not trumpet my strength

For the ears of others to hear me.

Such brassy notes are wasted,

When life demands of me an attentive ear.

My attention is focused on this day,

On the task before me at this moment.

My memory

Fortifies my resolve

To ensure my reputation

As a glass doll

Is shattered,

Now and forever.
                           Patty Thorsen, July 1993
                           First piece written reflecting on my disabilities