Wednesday, January 24, 2007

Shell Game

Every egg cracks differently
it’s something I now see
for every morning, sleepily
I break a dozen or three.

Some have skins quite durable
requiring one more cuff,
their doggedness commendable
though never tough enough,

while others suffer fragmentation
from the slightest touch
the cool façade an affectation
relied upon too much.

So many seem so satisfied
within their ivory vaults
unconscious of the world outside
until you find their faults.

1 comment:

White Square said...

An extraordinary poem about the eggs...admire your talent...