Fragment or fractured?

Recalling a shade

Kicked a rusty paint can
while walking
through a shortcut:

it rolled
sideways
clattering down
the path,

meandered

down to the grassy patch
where our house once stood;

nothing is left except for
a pile of wooden legs
from a broken chair
and a scattering of dull
emerald shards from
a window pane.

Apple white --
that's his favorite color;

it doesn't work
for the walls,
gives the walls
the light shade of

green apples,
the kind that makes
your teeth ache
with its citric juices.

I've forgotten why
my dad liked
apples (and apple-
white)

so much. I kicked it
again and it broke,
showering little
rusty pieces all
over my shoe;

there'll be a road going
through this place next year,
no one will remember
there was a house here.


(Idea for this piece from HVP's photo "Real Life Grunge")