My mom did not believe in double-jeopardy for her coffee mugs.
If a favorite mug jumped from the shelf
Crashing to the floor
And survived with only chips or missing fragments
That could be glued back in
(What might be called ceramic surgery)
It was placed on the shelf with
That's your favorite mug, mom
I'd say.
It's repaired, why not use it again?
It's a mug, son, not a soldier
She'd say
Once it's seen combat it's not fair to send it back in
For then it may not be just chipped or broken
It may be destroyed completely
And then I shan't have it at all.
Touchstones should not be allowed to be destroyed.
Tho' young, I understood instinctively her
Attachments to objects.
When my youngest picked up my favorite coffee mug
Made 5 years ago by my oldest
Pretended to drink and with a flourish
Threw it back over her head
I calmed my anger
And picked up the pieces.
It went back together like a puzzle
And then went on the shelf.
What's Sunflower's mug doing up there?
Asked mine goodwife...
1 comment:
Poetically interesting, BO! Good on you!
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