House of injured objects

All that’s glued, fixed, taped and bound

was once torn, chipped, broken or found

there’s an angry, dark hole where a face should be

in a photo of her (and a lover) from 1973

the crockery shelf holds a teal blue cup

that lost an ear, during a minor slip up

but she likes to drink her tea from this cup alone

on a teakwood chair that’s now scuffed and worn

there’s a book from her father, a scarf from an aunt

a mouldy pink lipstick called ‘Giddy Debutant’

the lamp by her bedside lights up with remembrances

the crocheted mats on the table, gather dust and absences

this house of injured objects is a Home for the Past

it holds everything that’s fragile but also made to last.