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The poems

© 2010-2013

material things

I finished the house – finally
The little porcelain house
With red shutters and blue gables
Reindeer with shiny black hooves
And red traces
A sleigh balanced precariously
On the quintessential
Kincade cottage
Snow people and animals
Pressed against the windows
Looking in on what must be
Certain warmth and gaiety inside

It took six years to paint –
About the time our relationship
Started – struggled – stopped
It could be it will now survive
Many Christmases
When we have not
How ironic
They say things don’t last
But they do
They outlast us
Lives, loves, careers
In sickness and in death
The little porcelain houses
Are passed down through the generations
Like little neutron bombs
They last like memories
While the people vanish
How fragile we are
How tenacious the things we create
The cheapest of objects
We dig them up
Find them in the ruins
Of lives spent
Looking for permanence
Looking for eternity