Four white mugs
hanging from their hooks,
above the kitchen sink.
They've held many things
within their depths,
and not just things to drink.
On the front of each
a memory lives,
faded, yet full of dreams.
A photo from when
it was brand new,
before liquid warmed its seams.
On the first mug
a reminder of dad,
and my childhood memories.
A diesel truck,
called a Peterbuilt,
and stains inside from coffee beans.
On the second mug,
my baby boy,
barely new and sucking a binky.
He's now eighteen,
with bigger things,
than a toy truck and a silver slinky.
The third mug,
is devoted to love,
and second chances brand new.
With little hearts,
and words of hope
it signifies love found between two.
The fourth mug
holds nothing at all,
no pictures just lots of attending.
Hot toddy when sick,
eggnog for Santa
and hot tea for tummy tending.
These mugs have held
more than drinks,
they've also held hugs and tears.
And no matter how much
they age and fade,
they'll be kept all through the years.
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