A REVELATION

A coffee mug
has a little bug
imposed on its exterior
by a potter, long ago.

 

I thought
it was a shell
‘til I decided to look closely
after years of sipping
from the edge
of its interior.

 

So much nearby
I pay so little heed
‘til something in me
suggests that I inquire.

 

And though my revelations
are modest and don’t shake the earth
they sometimes make my world go ‘round
when it seems that it has stopped.

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