Saturday Makes Everything Better

I had a little crystal dish that I was passing fond of. It was a handy size; it held the things that I would not lose: shiny bits of glass, feathers found along the trail, some casino chips I'd yet to cash in and twenty years out of date.

And this dish got broken, and I was sad about that for a while. And I wondered where I'd put these little treasures. Would they slip away from me? Would they get lost in the chaos of life? Am I too busy now to worry about shattered rainbows and flight's fal...