Things with Cracks

spines of old library books where
careless children have bent the cover
all the way back too many times,

soles on old sneakers when you have
worn though the shiny outer coating
and dried out the rubber
while exploring the neighborhood,

fingernails when you are trying
to see how long you can grow them
but end up catching them in everything
and breaking them instead,

rust flaking away from the legs
of the patio table after it has been buffeted
by the damp salt breeze for years,

coffee mugs that have been elbowed from desks
and glued together to hold pens and paper clips,

old CD cases that have lived
beneath the passenger seat
as the disks that match them
filled the car with memories,

and the stained, weathered sidewalks,
the linear cracks purposely placed,
so that on the hot days,
the concrete can expand and not break.

4/7/2010
Tatiana Robinson
from Advanced Poetry Workshop Spring 2010