Poetry

Broken Glass

It shocks me

The sound of glass
breaking

Shattering

A pie plate tipped
off the counter

My back to it

No warning

I do not see it fall

But hear it land

And smash

See its jaggedness

The big pieces
shining

The tiny crumbs
glimmering

All shimmering with
danger

 

One moment of
unexpected drama

Then a patient,
thorough response

The careful lifting
of large shards

The search for the
vacuum cleaner

Left in an odd
corner of the house

The methodical suck
that assures

Paws and feet will
be safe again

No winking threats
in the early light

 

People shock me

Shattering my peace

With unexpected
movements

Or sharp and sudden
words

Adrenaline  rushes

My heart, my heart

Beats too fast

When calm is
required

 

I cannot pick up
broken glass

With pounding heart

With shaking hands

I cannot safely pick
it up

I cannot make things
right

Until I bring myself
to rest

5 thoughts on “Broken Glass”

  1. Lately I have come to know those sharp shards all too well – in a broken Pyrex 8X8 that my dogs pulled off the counter in the middle of the night – that crash was shocking! In a few remnant shards that appeared months later, suddenly in the middle of the kitchen floor…
    But also, sharp shards in the words people have said to me, here….sharp…suck the breath right out of me sharp…and the struggle to find calm and centeredness so I can respond and not React with some sharp shards of my own…
    ((SB)) for calm and steady interior regardless of the exterior reality….

  2. This is a brilliant analogy; it captures the hurt so well.
    I hope all is well with you.

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