The Lamp

It sits pink

and white

and perfect

for the top

of the three-

shelved bookcase

housing such

masterpieces as

Goodnight Moon

and the Very Busy

Spider.

It welcomes

a little one

after forty

weeks wait.

Although

I know in my bones

that one day it

will sit dusty

and faded with

a broken switch

in someone’s garage

sale—a 10 cent

sticker on the shade—

it will not on this

day. It stands sentinel

over hopes and hard-

ships of beginnings,

of times remembered

well, and yes, eventually,

of endings.