I broke a dish once
My grandmother’s
Boží Milosrdenství
It was older than her
Shards of royal blue scattered the floor
One of a set of seven
Irreplaceable
That was my first sadness
She told me
Stand still
Let me sweep
I don’t want you cut
No need for your blood here
She kissed my cheek
My first taste of grace
Off broken china
On a kitchen floor
1 comment:
This poem is beautiful Henry, from the heart. It expresses grace perfectly, so surprisingly at the end. I have said those words often enough myself to a child who has broken something (albeit often not as selflessly).
Thanks for visiting at my place.
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