#OctPoWriMo 2018 Day 28–Broken
Broken
In those moments it was what I wanted
pottery cup held warm
fragrant coffee, soft in my mouth
its scent shared the garden
with orange blossoms, lavender
That blue cup fit my crooked hand
as if we had been together
for eternity,
now of birdsong
comfort in the cool morning,
warm hand
warm cup, warm mouth
Then came another morning
sweet grandchild
curious about the scent, the cup
carelessly left by the door when
I welcomed him
His tiny hand grasped but did not fit
and when grandma’s cup slipped
he cried over the wet blue shards
or perhaps the shock of the breaking
A grandmother’s fear first
grandson unharmed
I kept sadness hidden
After he left, I carried the pieces
to my garden, placed them
among well-traveled rocks and shells
near Monarch Milkweed
sage, sand
In this moment I hold a new cup
my fingers fit a different way
morning peace prevails
And as I contemplate the shards of
my once perfect world
my heart fills with love
for a tiny grandchild
a broken cup
another beginning
Poignant and full of vital imagery. I see his little hand, and I’ve seen those shards in the garden, literally and metaphorically