Algebra factors bored
friends who preferred baseball
thrown and caught, high and low,
through the heart of the house
that pounded hit and miss.
–
Venetian hand-blown glass,
glazed warm with memories,
Modigliani necked,
graceful, fragile icon,
broke like a shattered dream.
–
Dad took Ben’s mitt and ball,
grounded, Ben could not play,
did homework on his own.
What lesson did he learn?
It hurts when your Mom cries.
Comments on: "The Vase" (5)
Thanks!
so very loving and beautiful conclusion Elaine 🙂
Poetry from the bits and pieces of life..love ／thanks~
thats what makes poetry more beautiful, when it speaks of life.
E~have a sweet weeken~
J