Heirlooms

Heirlooms

She asked me last night, the day after Christmas,
if she was to receive "that set" of China after I died.
I told her, as my only daughter, she got first choice.
Then looking at dishes, the ones from my Grandmother's house,
the ones my Mother received at her wedding, all the dishes
that stay hidden in the china hutch ninety percent of the time,
and I told her the pink didn't really match her home
but if she wished to have them, they were hers.

I personally thought the blue set looked more like her,
they were the newest and best fit in with her decor.
Or, if she wanted antique,
take the pure white of her Great Grandmother's.
The pink...no, she wouldn't want the pink. The dishes with the
little flowers, the roses not yet fully bloomed,
no, they were probably not the pieces for her.

I see myself in that rose colored China
waiting for the petals to unfold and secrets of
tiny green leaves.

Divvy up the silver my Children,
have the Seth Thomas clock
and the old western paintings
but leave with me these tiny roses
and the whispers of tomorrow,
for I still see my face in the plates.

Bobbie Kilzer Gogain