Belly Button
The new tenant found
an age-hazed canning jar
brimmed with cast off buttons
beneath the kitchen sink
in the old farmhouse.
She scattered them like runes…
like a button fortune-telling…
upon a wear stained counter.
Now released to morning sunlight,
they spilled to a profusion
of fake emerald… shell luster
dull plastic…metal shine.
She had set them free
from their glass time-capsule…
these past generation closures.
Oh, the stories they could tell…
if buttons could tell stories.
Smiling, she chose one above the many…
a round wood pink…inked belly…
to nestle in her palm.
Bonnie Marshall
Proem... 
Definite smile on this one. 🙂
Many thanks…it was fun to write.
I’m a button hoarding tragic – loved it
Hmm…probably more sentimental than tragic. 🙂
She had set them free
from their glass time-capsule…
these past generation closures.
They sure did tell a refreshing story!
Story poems are fun to write…especially when kind people respond to them.