Caroline Misner

Caroline Misner is a graduate of Sheridan College of Applied Arts & Technology with a diploma in Media Arts Writing. Her work in various genres has appeared in various venues.

The Old Tin Jug

The Old Tin Jug

Rust has burrowed black holes

through its porcelain skin;

bullets have punctured the tin, a firing squad

having battered it out of shape;

little remains of its creamy glaze.

It was already a corpse when I found it

hidden among the brown brush

by the abandoned homestead overlooking

the lake, where dun hills rush down

to the valley, and beyond

grope the murky shores, already rimmed

with ice, like lace, thin as paper

and as cold as the heart that shot holes through

the pitcher; I thought I would keep it,

a useful planter in the spring.

Oh, daddy, did I disappoint

when I fetched it from its grave of weeds,

the veils of rust and amber that shrouded

it like a sickly bride? You wondered

what use I would have for such a relic;

it can’t even hold water, its heart

annihilated and pocked with holes,

though the sun still filters through its light

to fill its hollow bowl;

by now it would be buried in snow.

It sits by the woodstove now,

leaning like an exhausted old man

against the stone, warming its marrow

in the firelight, heat seeping through

the holes and fingering the room

like so many jaundiced eyes.

It needn’t a purpose;

It just survives.

 

TOP