The Vase
Tricia Taylor
A vessel worthy of holding
Only the most pristine of nature's treasures,
You once rested nobly upon the mantle,
Gracing the hearth with your delicate beauty
And the intricate patterns of your carefully fashioned design.
But for jealousy
You were torn from your shelf of security
And smashed upon the cold tile floor in the midst of their rage.
You became the innocent victim
Of a war you did not wage.
And now I am left
To pick up your shattered pieces.
I search every crevice and nook,
Gathering up each precious bit of porcelain,
Cradling it in the folds of my long cotton skirt
Until every jagged shred of what you once were
Is found.
But some of your fragments have been smashed to dust
That tickles my tender nose
And brings tears to my swelling eyes.
And despite all my meticulous efforts
I cannot make you whole again.
|
