I rather like the idea of “an honoured shelf”
on which to keep broken things—
a conscious choice, an intentional decision
to love the broken things as they are in
their brokenness
It’s a kind of respectful reverence:
a recognition of what the thing
did for you in its unbroken state—
a mark of cherishment
I’m trying to vet broken things
Like the trolley, bought a few lifetimes ago,
when we were a family of four
It’s seen much use:
carried water bottles and snacks and warm things
when we were out for the day, in the early flushes
of home-ed life
The handle is cracked,
unsuccessfully held together with sellotape
The string to pull the bag bit tight
doesn’t pull the bag bit tight at all
No zip on the flap pocket where I
used to keep my purse and phone
Every time I use it (which is rare),
I am afraid the wheels will finally give out,
and I’ll be left in the streets with a trolley load
of potatoes and milk and tins
It’s beyond its best, but won’t fit on a shelf
Also, it’s not really beautiful anymore
So, I’ll say goodbye to those days, maybe
start flirting with some fresh new wheels
Does the trolley support the becoming?
I don’t think so … It’s time for review
“I will keep broken things”,
but only beloved and
beautiful broken things
~ by Angela, The Modern House Witch
(photo of the broken trolley in better days, five years ago)
spark lines from original poem “italics”
Listen to Alice Walker read her poem here
Leave a Reply