Monday, September 22, 2008

The Beautiful Thing That Breaks You

When the pollution
of a broken shard of glass
ends up in the ocean,
it is battered and tumbled by the waves,
and smoothed in the salt water,
and eventually
tossed back onto the shore, there
to sit until it is collected
by one who will recognize it
for what it is.
The prettiest pieces are the ones that have endured the most
of the sea's jossling;
the best and the most pieces
appear in the winter months.
I will not
give up collecting
just because the summer
has ended;
I will not
take my eyes off
of the sand even though there is
an unbearable preciousness I sometimes want to smash
because it's existance shatters
what I am
to the core
moments everything I thought
I knew go
flying on the wind
and leave the shell of
me sopping up the puddle
I have become.
Look for me along the shore on a brisk, cold day;
I will be in search of beauty.


Val said...

Wow! All that this summer. It looks so pretty!

sara said...

I admire your collection & your drive to not give up on the search - that has to be a large part of the thrill of collecting, right??

smalls said...

glass beach, babe... glass beach... WINTER. Buckets and buckets and buckets. We may need to go alone. I don't think ANYONE could deal with us on that beach for a whole day or two... ;o)

Michelle said...

I agree. And I nominate MATTY to come over and help Derek with the kids! :-) Hee Hee!