Every day I could see it on the top shelf,
an intricate Asian pattern of gold on green
with a splash of red,
dragons chasing their tails
in a snake like fashion,
surrounding the porcelain in descending
coils – telling the myth of other worlds.
I knew better than to run too fast,
or bump into the mahogany shelf
that held the glimmering prize aloft
in the far corner of the room.
One day while my parents were out I couldn’t resist,
climbed up the chair and took down the vase,
held the glossy treasure in my hand,
heard the car door slam,
then dropped it.
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