a poem from 1994
A vase was shattered suddenly upon the hardwood floor.
Pieces scattered everywhere; fragments by the door.
Its ornamental life was spent; its beauty nevermore,
while dreams of monetary prize lay broken on the floor.
When most discard this worthless piece, you’d find the work’s life giver
on hands and knees upon the floor collecting each lost sliver.
A gracious glue gently applied would give the vase its hold,
And all the scars would be replaced with trim of white and gold.
And placed upon a pedestal to celebrate its birth,
A single rose was dropped inside to give the vase its worth.
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