Give a kid a bucket,
there’s no telling what he’ll do.
Bucket head, valiant helmet, Frankenstein’s twin.
Collector of pine cones, fancy purse.
Keeper of dreams and special things,
mudpie mixer, sandcastle constructor.
Fill it, empty it, and fill it again.
Knock it over and shrill with glee.
Bend the handle to breaking,
come back from the brink.
Much more alluring when empty,
Filled to capacity with nothing at all
and everything all at once.
Chopping Potatoes 
Little Mighty
/ May 15, 2013Your “bucket” could be a metaphor for life itself. I enjoyed the poem even in its simplicity. Lovely post.
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Jennifer Butler Basile
/ May 15, 2013I did wonder that it lost its “kid quality” as it went on and spoke to so much more. My bucket runneth over?
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Jonathan Caswell
/ May 15, 2013Reblogged this on By the Mighty Mumford and commented:
THERE’S NOTHING LIKE A KID—USING HIS OR HER IMAGINATION!!
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gegebearbear
/ May 16, 2013Love the blog name. Jill
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Jennifer Butler Basile
/ May 17, 2013Thank you! Some people told me I might be falsely advertising a blog about food prep, but I love the metaphor. I’ll never look at a potato the same way again.
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keladelaide
/ May 17, 2013Great minds….I have a bucket post ready to go.
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Jennifer Butler Basile
/ May 17, 2013Awesome! Can’t wait to read it!
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