Old wives' tale.(Poem)

 
OLD WIVES; TALE 
 
   From the floor 
   an old wives' tale winks at me 
   in the watery glitter 
   of dropped knives, forks and spoons. 
 
   It's bad luck to pick them up 
   my mother used to say 
   when I was a boy, curtains closed against the bright sunshine, 
   the dark rooms of her house 
   keeping germs outside. 
 
   Never look into a broken mirror, 
   chop wood on Sundays, cut your nails 
   when the moon is full: 
   step on cracks in ...