POP!
Crash!

Before I entered the room I knew it was the fine quality porcelain bisque ornament hitting the floor.
Delicate

A gift from him for Christmas early in our marriage when his love for me was greater than his disbelief.
Symbolic

Each year it was placed high on the branches, out of harm’s way.
Out of reach from wagging tails and later, toddler hands.
Fragile

At season’s end, packed away in bubble wrap and a hard plastic box, preserved for another year.
Beautiful

This year, teenage hands, unaware of the value, placed the orb on lower branches.
And I moved it in an effort to preserve what was not yet broken.

What fucking irony.