by Alice Towey
The world is worth saving,
though the poor damaged thing
doesn't seem worth the trouble.
It has taken some abuse:
the surface is scuffed and cracked,
with tufts of stuffing spilling out.
Still, the world is worth saving:
pick it up from the mud with two fingers
and bring it home. Rinse off
the dirt and excrement,
lay it on a dishtowel to dry,
and tape it back together.
Store it someplace cool and dark
until your next garage sale:
set it out on a folding table
with a tag reading, "25¢." There it will sit
until a raven-haired child sees it,
can't stop looking, and finally
plucks up the courage to hand you a quarter.
Watch her wander off with the world
cradled in her arms, her favorite thing,
just what she always wanted.