Glass

April 17, 2018

It's much too hard

cleaning up these glass shards

off the asphalt street.

I was picking up

tiny pieces that got stuck,

now my frail hands bleed.

And then a midnight wander

I began to ponder

now a paradoxical memory.

Never again will I seek the thrill

of the sharp shattering sound that fills

my adolescent mind so carelessly.

I will keep this glass unbroken.

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