smychka (255 days of longing)

[blackjohnnie]

A braying donkey
smashes another cherry wood curio
housing all her
trinkets and miniatures,

some
the wood work of her uncle,
making the most of his tiny hands
carves a skeleton Mariachi band
for el dia de las muertos
from broken limbs of the willow
outside her window,

a few from her lover
stolen crystal figurines
Apollo chasing Daphne
into laurel,
Rodin's
the eternal idol,
their price tag still attached...

and the last
of her mother’s porcelain nativity scene.
The three wise men
broken, hollow, still beaming
in the glow of Jesus…

sighing she
rises from her chair
to sort the pieces.
The donkey snorts.
I should let you starve, she says
before she tickles his ear
leaving it to mend
what she can.