Poem of the Day
I love NSN because she can take a simple image and give it so much meaning.
Breaking My Favorite Bowl
By Naomi Shihab Nye
Some afternoons
thud unexpectedly
and split into four pieces
on the floor.
Two large pieces, two small ones.
I could glue them back,
but what would I use them for?
Forgive me when I answer you
in a voice so swollen
it won't fit your ears.
I'm thinking about apples and histories,
the hands I broke off
my mother's praying statue
when I was four-
how she tearfully repaired them,
but the hairline cracks
in the wrists
were all she said
she could see-
the unannounced blur
of something passing
out of a life.