Fine Crystal

Some things

Cannot be changed

Like when fine crystal

Shatters on a black tile floor.

So many, many years ago

When words were unknown…

The house no longer stands

In those leafy oaken groves

With it’s funny pink and blue paint

The detached garage

Built for much older cars

And the ringer-washer, the smell of soap

The passion flowers by the back door

Yes, that’s where it happened

In the kitchen.

The glass fell from your fingers

When you pushed on my neck,

And the pieces flew across the floor

Under the refrigerator

And into the bowl of water

For the cat

And glinted dangerously

Under the cabinets.

You had to get the broom

To sweep it up, like it never existed

And never happened.

But even after all those years

You can walk across that floor

And suddenly, something stabs

Your tenderest part

And that’s my fragile life

That is so very broken

But, drawing blood, memories

Words…