Reflecting

I stood and watched the pieces,
Not likely to a score.
The antique pieces of a cup,
That lay upon the floor.

To my Granny, it had once belonged,
In those days of long ago.
As she set it in the closet,
In a special way to show.

So many times I watched her,
Lift it gently from the stand.
Admiring fluted-edges,
As she held it in her hand.

And looking very closely,
She studied out the line.
With gold-leafing on the handle,
In a rare, red-rose design.

But there it lays...all broken,
So treasured...it has been.
Leaving all its mortal ties on earth,
And passes on...like men.

E.P. 1908 - 1989

This is a memorial I made from broken pieces of glass for two great old Boxer dogs, Zoey and Xena, who were my daughters most loyal, fun companions for over 9 years. Two females who died within a year of each other from old age.