This round plate <br />Sits on my kitchen shelf <br />Staring with its broad red rim <br />And bright central floral eye. <br /> <br />I have kept a bed in five nations, <br />Seen the sun arise at odd times. <br />I must probe with blind fingers <br />Into memory to feel origins. <br />Birthdays at age two and six and eight <br />Saw my mother pedestal my cakes <br />On this very plate. <br />It gives me history. <br />One glance, one touch <br />Confers personal mythology <br />On crockery.<br /><br />Jan Sand<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/plate/
