Three Eggs Cracked
Three Eggs, cracked,
their shattered shells ready for the trash
while the omelet slowly simmers on the stove.
There is a lesson there, I am sure,
but I am too hungry to learn.
About this poem.
There’s a lesson in everything. Sometimes I see it. Sometimes I don’t.
The picture was taken on my kitchen table this morning. I actually saw the lesson in the cracked shells and my breakfast coming from them. But the poem turned out better when I pretended I didn’t.