Cracked Clay

The basil, thirsty, leaned its head,

I reached, then fumbled, something dread

came over me, a clumsy hand,

a solid truth turned shifting sand.

It hit the sill, a muffled thud,

then split in two, like ancient mud.

A clean sharp break, the dusty red,

its hidden life, now freely spread.

The soil spilled out, a little mound,

on floorboards where no life is found.

Just halves, two pieces, plain and bare,

a simple break, beyond repair.

A wound, exposed, for all to share.