Hour Eighteen – Fragments

Fragments

A window shatters
Tiny squares of glass cascade down
Mixing with the gravel in my driveway
Bright and unnatural as diamonds

For days I sift through the gravel
My gloved hand picking out cuboids
And prisms and oblongs and shards
Separating shiny window glass from the dusty gravel

I picture myself as Cinderella
Picking the lentils from the ashes
What a tedious task that was

But it is not so bad
Here on my front step
Dustpan full of gravel
Bucket filling with glass

Like Cinderella
I have the birds to sing to me

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