Breaking Glass

The glass that breaks and falls at nights,  

When you are dreaming of flying kites,  

Creeps between the breaking beams, 

And finds your clothes with open seams; 

It falls among the silver flowers, 

Tipping and wilting with the hours- 

Now shards are crossing the window-pain 

And lifting letters from your brain, 

And one by one they touch the floor  

Like snowflakes fall upon the Moore  

Or where the larger pieces fall 

Like crowds you find inside a mall 

The little pieces running sideways  

Away from your forgotten highways  

Landing on your daytime sorrows  

And on the dreams of your tomorrows  

And on the dolls at their plastic tables  

Or the kitchen with its rows of ladles  

Until they creep with pointed claws  

To where you dream of breaking laws  

And only then do your eyelids open  

To see the things that now are broken 

And a look around will wake you up  

For much more has broken than a cup