“My favorite glass”
I asked her why do hearts have to break
And she took a glass from the shelf
And smashed it on the floor –
Scattered shards and metaphors.
I watched her meticulously
Put all the pieces back in place
With paper glue and scotch tape
Though it didn’t go back together right ;
A few pieces missing,
A couple of them fractured,
Still it was my favorite glass.
By Paul D Aronson. 2003. All Rights Reserved.