Poetry: Be Thankful For Nothing

Maria had her jar of perfect memories
She relished recounting them like monks count beats of their rosaries
Recounting them brings her to the shores of calm
Where her serene mind sings her a psalm

Her jar had Charis, her late husband
The best piece, like a ware from wonderland.
She often would sigh when she got to the page of her thought
Then the sparkle in her eyes it always brought
Jane and joy, her daughters, knew better than interrupt her time travel

The day dawned like it always did
How could she tell what events the day will feed?
Rap, rap on the door
The day dawned with a young sun and more
The news reached her ears and tears reached the floor
Two boys, both with Charis’ pair of eyes
Dumbfounded, finding out her jar had been filed with lies

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