Crumbling Cardboard
Piece by piece, bit by bit,
biting the steak, drinking the wine,
burying each cutout into its place.
My place in the banquet of life,
just like a puzzle, sometimes
sunshine yellow, sometimes fear,
midnight blue, a little unclear,
smiling when the quagmire
is revealed as a masterpiece.
Tight corners, dire straits,
when observed by passing time,
mere mosquito mementoes.
Souvenirs, those war wounds,
that touch the grandkid’s ears.
Many pieces will be picked up
through their years, as I disappear,
never completely, but eventually
melding into their big picture,
and so it goes through the generations,
biting the steak, drinking the wine,
reflections of time; crumbling cardboard
refined, sublime, wizened, sharp,
suspended, haloed; will progeny
interlock generations with gratitude?
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