twenty four

Collector of broken treasures
You seek out the ones that are scarred
Tarnished, faded, cracked or marred
Pick them up with gentle care
Caress every crevasse with skillful hand
The details, marks you all too well understand
The time spent with the precious things
You use to make them shine
Put it on a shelf and tell all “They are mine.”
Up high away from the comforting gaze
To be hidden from thought and sight for days
Glancing only briefly at the collection you have
Before you begin another hunt for the next gem
A beautifully broken angel to add to ‘them’