Day 17: Rancho San Miguel Market

The egg was written and hidden by Dawn Trook. Later found by James, a worker at the market who was hunted down by Rick McMillion, or most avid searcher. Here's the poem:

The Homemade Piñata

I toppled--always too soon,

a hollow thud where the heart had been held.

A vital organ carted away, accidentally

mixed in with the recycling. I tried

fashioning myself a new

heart from old newspapers, a hole-punch,

and yarn scraps, wore it dangling

around my neck with a macramé chain

(knotted from a ball of twine

my mother left behind).

And there it was, waiting and obvious,

saying, "Here is the news:

She's ready." Must've looked so clumsy,

bicycle-commuting with that floppy

necklace batting back and forth.

What a dope. So I hung it on my wall--

pretended it was only art. On some random

visit, he admired the heart and I waved it off,

saying, "Oh, I'm through with it."

And then, unhooking it from above its place,

held it in my open palms, and, moving toward him, said,

"Why, do you want it?"