by Glen Martin Fitch
I'm not sure you'll get this.
I'm not sure I care.
As if you care!
Who knows!
This is just to tell you that
I broke that dish
You gave me years ago.
I'm sure you know the one.
How strange. Looking down
I saw a piece in each hand.
I was just washing it
And thinking of you.
God, I lugged that thing around.
Displayed it. Hid it.
Lent it. Retrieved it.
Thought they'd put it in my grave!
So now it's gone.
Dumped in the trash.
And someday I'll forget it.
And you.
Oh, I forgot!
Before I threw it out
I put it in a sack
And smashed it to bits.
From:
8/11
Copyright ©:
Glen Martin Fitch
Last updated August 23, 2011