On the shelf, at the flea market

Our eye is caught by
A STONE kept by a SAVER
Of odd bits and pieces
There, in the little porcelain jar
Lies the polished rock,
The letters A, E, and M —
From a printer’s box —
Decorative with SERIF,
An old vial, where a SERUM
Once was held
Strange little items,
Held by a collector unknown
Your tales will remain untold

Georg’ann

After being kept awake by the STORM, my tired face could use the promises of a luxury SERUM.

Heather