The vase was fragile thin and bright

The vase was fragile, thin and bright,

it tipped, then crashed to bits.

A sudden, awful, awful sight,

where ceramic dust now sits.

My quick glance to the floppy ears,

the dog, a soft, brown blur.

He didn't know about my fears,

or what I'd just infer.

The lie slipped out, a practiced grace,

a child's desperate plea.

He looked up with his honest face,

and never challenged me.

That small shard, buried in the rug,

a secret, dull and keen.

A simple, guiltless, silent shrug

from what I'd made unseen.