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,

softened

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.

-9/22/08