Black and Blue

How ironic I thought to myself
As I stood there
Picking up the small vase
Looking at it, wondering
Now why didn't I see this one before

It's only been three months
Since I went to the fall craft show
And wandered into the
Same potter's booth
And bought a little pot-bellied vase
It was black and blue
The colors of midnight
Or more aptly the colors
Of my mood that day
And the past few months
Feeling battered and beaten

I was going to put feathers in it
But upon getting it home I did not feel
As though I could even use the vase
I did not want to be reminded
Of feeling black and blue
So I gave the vase away
Thinking that I could find
Another one some other time

And now three months later
At the Christmas craft show
Walking down the aisle
Not expecting to find anything
But something catches my eye
A small gray fluted vase
Around the middle there are
Mountains painted in earth tones
This one is perfect for my feathers

And as I look around
I notice there are a couple of
The midnight blue ones left
As I walk away I still
Wonder why I didn't see
The little gray vase earlier
Surely she had them before
Do we see only what we want to see
And not what is truly there
Is it perspective, just where our heads
And our emotions happen to be
At any given moment

And why is it that
You think you've found something you like
And it turns out to be something
You can not even stand to look at
I guess it is true
What they say about time
It does change things
Whether it's a matter of hours
Or even months
Feelings do change

12.09.98