Craft share

Once a month
we would fill the shoebox
with scissors.

Where these scissors went
the rest of the time
is an enduring mystery.
Somehow, they'd escape
leaving a pair of sentries
volunteering to be left alone,
and we'd hunt them again.

Scissors like to separate.
Maybe someone should write a paper on that?
Or maybe not.
Never mind.
Scrapbook that idea.

Maybe they were hiding
from the gallon of glue?
That giant with his minions
of cute, squeezable individuals
with crusted helmets.
Maybe they didn't want to gape
and hide cutting distaste
of dried headgear?

It doesn't matter.
We were crafty
at using our dividing scissors
to bring our friends together.

[September 19, 2014]