original writing: Plain Vase Put to Good Use

August 11, 2009

Yes it’s another poem but settle down. It’s good for what ails you. And if not, it’s a couple of micropayments into the karma bank.

I wrote this thinking about my dad and step mom, their well-tended garden and their kitchen, which was always in mid-meal-preparation.

Plain Vase Put to Good Use

Crystal sings
like a slut
after the vodka’s been slopped
a little.

Hand-blown glass
bends the light
to its will,
which is considerable.

But the plain vase
is content to wait
in the back of the cupboard
until the Butterball
is no longer frozen stiff to the touch
and the potatoes and carrots
are piled on the want ads,
beside the old crockery bowl
mounded with bread
cubed and crisp and tossed with salt, pepper
and whatever vintage of poultry seasoning,
until he who will carve
reaches in from the muddy back-door mat
with a fistful of the last marigolds of the season,
which do no want crystal
or delicate glass
but the homely beauty
of a plain vase
put to good use.


— Denise Duguay



  1. your poem is lovely. I don’t know where you come up
    with them. I guess that’s why they call you talented, right?

    • oh mother. you HAVE to say that

  2. Wonderful. First stanza still makes my left eye widen reflexively, even on re-reading.

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