From Dollhouse

By Elaine Terranova


The dollhouse is a box
like most things,
a tooth, a heart, a tomb.
Cloud glory crowns it
or it is maybe struck
by eyeball-shaped hail.
At dusk, the earth's shadow
falls over it.  The dollhouse
is an ecosystem with
a fixed population.
Their wool-strand hair.
Their wooden feet.
They find themselves
stretched out on the sofa
or folded into a chair
by a window,
gaze directed out.
Gabled and balconied
the dollhouse clings
like a shoe.  A refuge
is what it is.
A destination.
Even the smallest
can say the address.


Off The Grid Press is pleased to announce that the winner of our 2013 manuscript contest is Doggerland by Dicko King