Butting Heads
She gets me out of a
dark cupboard,
where others more
useful than me stay.
She puts me in the
center of the table
and puts in his
thick-handled spoons.
He takes out the
spoons and replaces me
with a cut off, used
potato-chip can.
He casts me aside
saying,
“Cups belong in the cupboard.”
She says, “But I want
to see that cup.
It’s too small to hold
my tea.”
“I want it in the
center of the table
holding your thick-handled
spoons.”
I’m with her. I’m only
half a cup.
I remember their
daughter smiling,
saying, “I’ll buy this
for Dad.
On my side, in
colorful lettering reads,
“Grand Turk was so
expensive
I could only afford half
a cup. “
So Mom put me on a
living room shelf,
and smiles,
remembering warmer climates.
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