The Charity Shop

A gaiwan and used tea leaves

Between yesterday’s trends,
And the abandoned toys,
The teaware shelf,
Detritus, washed and pale,
Flotsam, tideline on a temporal shore,
The tea stains have been scrubbed away,
Bleached and steamed, scoured and rinsed,
But the chips and cracks remain,
Bearing witness, here was a life,
Played out to this soundtrack,
The chimes and scrapes of porcelain,
The teaspoon glockenspiel,
The passions, the loving, the seething hate,
Braying laughter, silent screams,
Worked their way deep into the glaze,
And now leach out, emotional vapours,
Tender pleas, forget-me-not whispers,
Wanting, needing homes,
To be held, filled again,
Hands and lips, sacred touches,
How sweet the milk of human kindness,
Feelings for sale,
Bargains with value added memories,
Another’s faded melancholy, a trinket,
A talking point accessory,
Help the homeless, complete the needy,
But my cupboards are packed,
And my shelves already full.

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