First Taste

I broke a dish once
My grandmother’s
Boží Milosrdenství
It was older than her
Shards of royal blue scattered the floor
One of a set of seven

That was my first sadness

She told me
Stand still
Let me sweep
I don’t want you cut
No need for your blood here
She kissed my cheek

My first taste of grace
Off broken china
On a kitchen floor


One thought on “First Taste

  1. This poem is beautiful Henry, from the heart. It expresses grace perfectly, so surprisingly at the end. I have said those words often enough myself to a child who has broken something (albeit often not as selflessly).Thanks for visiting at my place.

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