Left Over





Left Over

I found a piece of mom's pie,
frozen since Christmas.

I observed it as a holy relic,
ashamed by the disregard
with which I had slipped it
into a ziplock bag.
 
I must have tipped the freezer door
closed with an elbow 
and set about my lists as if
there would always be more.

How quickly I had forgotten it,
made flat in the weight
of these days.

I ate the remains
with a sterling fork
but the butterscotch
tasted like peas.

– Teresa Kiplinger


 See how I incorporate my poetry into my jewelry work here.


9 comments


  • Sharon Schaefer

    What a sweet poem. So very touching. I know that taste of frozen food quite well.


  • Carolyn Mullen

    Love you poetry and metal work… you are so talented! This particular poem is so raw and beautiful, it touched me to my core! xox


  • Tracey

    This hits me right in the gut.


  • Joan Wescott

    Reading this introspective poem early this morning when all is calm and quiet gives me a glimpse inside your head and where you are at when designing your beautiful pieces.


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