Sweetness: whipped cream heaped
high in glass bowl. Gentle
clink against another dish;
ominous crack. In an instant
undetected fault line splits dish.
Sweetness, laced with splinters,
oozes onto counter. Lost.
I grieve for the waste.

Thus may life be broken
in a moment: a squeal of brakes;
the shatter of a windshield;
a whole irreparably divided.
Sweetness, laced with splinters,
oozes onto pavement. Lost,
we grieve for the waste.

Buckle up.
Slow Down.
Drive safely.


2 thoughts on “BROKEN

  1. Thank you. The bowl of whipped cream happened at work and I’d hoped to save the contents when the bowl split, but noticed shards of glass sprinkled on top, so that was that. the only prior clue I had was that when I cleaned the dishes off the table I suddenly had a tiny splinter of glass in the tip of my finger. Puzzling — until that bowl split so easily and glass landed on top of the cream.
    I’m not sure why it brought to mind an accident, other than the shattering glass. Perhaps it was the thought of ‘undetected flaws’, things like black ice, a sleepy driver beside us, the phone ringing at a crucial moment, spilling a drink. Suddenly we don’t have things in control anymore.


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