Broken Handle

The coffee mug's handle cracked for weeks,

tight lines drawn in porcelain white.

Tonight it split—sharp edge speaks,

a broken shard in my tired sight.

Cold ceramic bites into my palm,

a jagged weight that won’t let go.

Every morning’s quiet calm

broken now, cracked deep below.

I set it down beside the sink,

a cup that’s lost its firm grip.

Fix it later? I don’t think—

the broken lies on the counter’s lip.