Ode to an Ewer

Who did you belong to long ago?
Who were you made for?
A dowry?
Who has wrapped their fingers around your handle?
Who has stroked your golden coat with the utmost delicacy and appreciation?
Did you belong to a prince?
Did steam rise from your spout as tea brewed?
Or did intoxicating liquor from your lips pour?

The shawl of rust and cobwebs wrapped around your shoulders
Give me a clue as to your age.
But you keep your secrets hidden
Deep within your bowels.

Rae Douglass
Frankie’s Coffee Shop