Going through old trinkets and nic-nacs and the like, you always stumble on interesting peices of history from someone’s past. Maybe not yours. Maybe exactly yours. Either way, maybe think twice before you throw it in a box and send it on down to the Goodwill.

poetry

There is something wrong
with this picture. It hangs
at a slant, the glass is
broken, with chips out of the
frame here and there, not
to mention the split across
the bottom from the
last time it slipped from its
hook and hit the floor
because the nail was never
set quite right;
the holes in the wall can
tell you all about that.

Oh, but the sun in the
clear blue sky, and the
old blue truck with the
topper on, those look
alright I guess.

And me and you out
front just smiling.
That part looks just fine.

Perhaps we’ll keep this
hanging after all.

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