By jenn (wardenchick@yahoo.com)
Date: 15 February 1999

Souvenir

You used to keep me on your shelf
with your other keepsakes and souvenirs.
You'd diligently dust me off
when friends came calling, 
or the parents were in town.
But you were careless,
putting a chip in the base,
or a crack in the finish.
You knocked me over, one time too many,
and I broke.
Someone else found me, and fixed me.
Loving me because of my faults,
not in spite of them.
With all my faultlines and fractures,
and superglue smudges,
I'm stronger than before
and proud to no longer be your trophy,
but someone else's cherished find.