A mug of age, a mug of old,
A coffee mug filled with mold,
Its past owner, stories untold,
But future events will soon unfold,
What I found that day, it was something grand!
In the trash it lay, soon gripped by my hand.
To find such an item that is used by many,
At such a steal, not costing a penny,
Its condition was fair, not a crack in view,
Just filled with dirt and some smelly goo,
While rinsing it and washing it off,
I thought of the time I found my dishcloth.
Reminiscing and thinking of the past,
I probably should stop sifting through trash.
But now the cupboard holds something new,
And with it I drink some Folgers’ brew.