In the back of the hall closet

In the back of the hall closet

under a stack of tax returns from 1994,

I found this Ziploc bag.

It’s a single shard of a blue plate.

Deep cobalt, with a jagged white edge

where the clay is still rough and dry.

We never had a set like this—

all our dishes were the cheap, beige kind

with the brown rings around the rim.

Why keep a piece of the mess?

Did it break during a laugh

or a door-slamming fight?

I run my thumb along the sharp point

and wonder what she was trying

to save.