the vase

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​in the room there is a chair - the only piece of furniture left.
it is being given away.

on the chair is a vase.

nobody knows quite how the vase arrived in the family,
but it’s like it’s always been there.
​
when the new owners of the chair come and pack it up,
the vase is gone.

tucked in a bundle of blankets,
the vase goes to the family’s new home.

the next morning, the vase sits unpacked on a shelf.
it looks different;
near the rim, one of the painted buds has disappeared,
in its place, a flower.

the family members smile at the vase on their way to the kitchen for breakfast,
just as they are smiling in the photo they have set beside it.

years later, the family’s youngest moves into their own home.
with their own family. and the vase.
one of the painted buds has disappeared,
in its place, a flower.
“I thought the vase didn’t have any more room!” one of the children exclaims.
“there’s always more room,” their parent will respond knowingly.

many generations before, the vase was a patternless blue.

nobody knows quite how the vase arrived in the family,
but it’s like it’s always been there.

for the vase,
the family always has room.

they blossom together.

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