Broken Glass

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Mirror breaks inexplicably
invisible stone
hurled
by a petulant force
seeking attention

Shattered

Shards litter floor
prismatic glass mosaic
hundreds of pieces
return disjointed image
echo chaos
flash alarm

Art deco
Nouveau art
Art less

Strewn about
fragments catch light
direct variegated colors around room
or blind with angry
blast of sun’s rays
blink tears to protect eyes

Some bits are flipped
reflective side down
unable to face their new reality

Photo frame characters
watch from across room
frightened by crash
they seem to leap
to escape their restricted confinement

Clean up is like walking through a minefield
where great care must be taken
not to detonate
a slumbering weapon of destruction

Remnants of mirror
not forgotten mines
lay visible
but every now and then
unseen splinters
pierce and draw blood
an exacting toll
to assuage guilt
for breakage of
the valuable mirror

 

2 thoughts on “Broken Glass

  1. Meghan says:

    So many sharply eloquent lines in this poem, Mary. So easy to relate to for me. Love your stanza, “Some bits are flipped reflective side down
    unable to face their new reality.” Perfectly written!

  2. mincs1 says:

    Thank-you so much!

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