Broken Glass | April 8, 2012

It was a beautiful casserole dish
It was what everyone really would wish
Good friends and family spooned and served out
Goodness and happiness spilled all about

Constant replenishment kept it alive
Caring and nurture allowed it to thrive
Hotpots and shepherd’s pies, crisp pasta bakes
Caesar salads, casseroles till the dish aches.

This is what happens as years scrape on by
Knives, forks and metal spoons cause it to cry
Spiders’ web patterns all over its face
Care less fastidious leaves more than a trace

Baked-on ingredients starting to stick
Added to yesterday’s, crusty and thick
Cleaning more cursory, now it’s a chore
It doesn’t look elegant, not as before

Then as the cavalier carelessness grows
Grip not so serious. Weariness shows.
Soap in the fingertips, spinning, she flies,
Crashing and shattering. Shards of surprise.

Wartime is dangerous in fallout zones
Being in hinterland more than just groans
Skin lacerated and friends will be cut
Bonds in the family sick to the gut

Once a glass casserole splinters and spreads
It’s clear understood that the clashing of heads
Already took lustre from things that once shone
And divorce is a broken glass – wholesomeness gone

Care for your crockery. Gentle it through.
Never let knives scratch the shine that was true
Soak it with tenderness. Polish it well.
Renew it with love so it rings like a bell


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