A little something I wrote earlier this afternoon:

PRECIOUS

Unassuming, in a glass case
In Mr. Colemans downtown store.
Most people see a simple ring
Nothing less and nothing more.

They don’t think about its history
Passed from parents on to kids.
They don’t understand the mystery
Or the secrets that it hid.

This diamond has survived a war,
been flung into the sea.
It’s seen sunsets in Hollywood
And the hills of Tuscany.

This stone has witnessed arguments
And tempestuous affairs.
For thirty years it sat inside a box
Behind the stairs.

It’s graced the hands of newlyweds,
Been in the possession of a thief,
Nearly lost in a game of pool,
And helped a widow through her grief.

It has graced a dirty nightstand,
Sparked a fight between two brothers
Been sold to pay for diapers
By a desperate single mother.

It may have never breathed a breath
But at times it seems alive.
Its journey, strange and wondrous
Though perhaps a bit contrived.

Now it sits, almost unnoticed
In Mr. Coleman’s store.
It’s not a simple diamond ring.
It’s a legacy and more.