Glass Pitcher

I took hold right where the crack was

jutting downward toward the bottom

of the pitcher

of freshly juiced watermelon

mixed with shards of glass.

He told me to get rid of that thing,

It was a hazard
(a wedding present I chose to keep),

placed just so

in our stark white built-in,

crack to the wall.

It went unnoticed until

I brought it to life again

filled its belly with sweet pink nectar

and grabbed the top to pour.

It gave out in my hand

shattered in the web of my flesh.

Dynamite reflexes saved

my bare feet.

As I held pressure

to my dripping fingers

I knew I should have listened

not to hold onto a mere piece of glass so

beautiful

sculpted

and

about to break.

© 2014 d.c.p.