The Vase

May 2001

It wasn't an expensive vase,
Really not worth much
But it held inside it memories
Which returned with every touch

But now it lies in fragments
Strewn across the floor,
Spilling out the memories
That it can hold no more

Yet if I could repair it
There wouldn't be much point,
I'd never really see the vase
Just the glue in every joint

So I'll sweep away the fragments
Strewn across the floor,
A piece for every memory
That I can touch no more.

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the above work is copyright David Axton © All Rights Reserved