This is not a cow skull.
It’s the fulfillment of a random outrageous request of a teenage son.
It’s an item that caused a young clerk at Staples in a small town a challenge to prepare for shipping across the country.
It’s an item that costed more to ship than to buy.
It’s an item forementioned son wanted nothing to do with when it was presented to him.
This is not an old-fashioned cast iron, claw-footed tub.
It’s a housewarming gift after a fashion from Steve, my ex-boyfriend, Bob’s, brother.
It’s something Steve was given by someone but had no use for.
It’s something Bob filled with a superblend growing mix, then planted strawberries in.
It’s something that gave good berries for years but became clogged with grass.
It’s something being filled with growing mix again in the spring.
This is not a bubble bath the cow skull is languishing in.
It’s a measly amount of snow for mid-January in MI.
It’s something there is too little of to enjoy for sledding or skiing.
It’s not enough to make men who earn money in winter plowing money.
It’s something that isn’t giving county workers an opportunity for overtime.
It’s something where you can see the tracks of visiting critters.
Nor is it a final resting place for an Arizona cow whose skull was one of dozens lining the tent of the roadside souvenir shop.
It’s a place where a part of the cow’s corporeal being has decided to park.
It’s something the lichen, sun, water, and temperature will deconstitute.
It’s a memory holder for disappointment, joy, contentment, sorrow, and regret.
Its presence helps me process a little of these memories when I pass it, even if only a teensy bit.
It’s something that now makes me wonder why I keep visiting this cache?
Mish is today’s host for dVerse‘ Poetics. Mish says:
Choose an object from your home or outdoors. Look past the obvious characteristics and uses of this object. Spare us the details. Instead, take us to the connection that it has made with you or what it represents.