I can’t go to tea parties, because all the other cups are afraid of the dragon that trails around my saucer. I can’t leave the saucer at home because we’re a pair.
We’ve been in the dining room cabinet for years, looking through the glass at the family, which is now down to two old people.
Today, though, she has all the acceptable cups packed for the next tea party.
She needs a small one for her green tea, so she chooses me.
When she drinks the last drop she sees, inside my golden-rod colored bowl, tiny runnels of paint.
“This cup and saucer is a second!” she cries.
I whisper…no, there’s no such thing as a second, only unique treasures that want to be used.
I can’t believe you haven’t shown me this cup. It’s lovely.
What a wonderful poem, DiVoran! More! More!