Image result for old flowerpot


Heavy with the earth of last spring,
it rests on the stoop’s bottom step,
cradled by the snow I’ve shoveled

and tossed. The shriveled spines
of marigolds reach from its center
like arthritic fingers, but, now and then,

the stray cat, lurking in spaces
where most forget to see, abandons
its shadows, steps forth to nuzzle its head

against the pot’s brim, blessing the vessel
with new purpose, a bit of warmth.


3 thoughts on “Flowerpot

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