Tuesday, January 6, 2015

The Cookie Jar


Restless in his soul

Going down dead-ends

Traveling highways north and south

On the run to find 

Where he had begun

No matter which road he followed

He could not locate what he lost

And was trying to find it

Looking in flea markets 

And second-hand stores

Because money was tight

It would take time

He knew

To bring it back

One day he 

Spotted it on a shelf

No worse for the wear

He understood 

What it meant

Took it to his house

Placed it on the counter

He knew his daughters' hands

Would one day touch

Its smooth ceramic lid

And they did


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