Shards
Shards


I am the shards of shiny purple glass,

broken pieces,

on the floor,

reflecting sadly in flickering white christmas lights.

Frosted purple glass so soothing to my eyes,

but it's missing words.

Words I want to utter,

words I want to giggle and smile

and watch them shine in someone else's eyes.


I'd rather be,

eggnog and bailey's,

heat and smiles,

warmth and love,

sitting in the lights of my own first christmas tree

surrounded by my ornaments,

my daughter and my love,

with flickering shadows of yule time candles

casting shadows on my daughter's sweet sleeping face

and knowing that on the christian holiday she'll wake up

and magic will be in the frigid air.

Not the magick of solemn nights,

but the magic of joyful mornings and brightly wrapped packages.

I'm dying to share that with someone.

I'm dying for the lack.


So


I


Am


Shards of purple glass on the floor.

Prickly and sharp,

With only a few rounded edges left to me at all,

The deepest color

that some how you might miss

with tiny shards jetting out angrily into the air.

ŠJ.A. Rodgers~Stankard 2005


Home