Intact

[Karen Greenbaum-Maya]

Three stone-gray bowls with a muted blue ring

(hold the brush steady as the wheel goes round)

from the days I heard what all she said.

 

She broke the second all in anger,

said it never happened,

so much never happened,

twice thanks twice, then.

The smallest went unseen

by staying small.

 

The largest the last wore its crack for years,

everyone saw, everyone said so,

surface or deeper, who could know?

 

Heat split it open, at last enough

to break the last bond

that held in what there was to hold;

it could hold back no more,

and so seeped its slow trickle.

Last breach. 

[Angela]

Lovely rendering of the arc of a relationship and how objects tell a story sometimes.