Fragile
I broke a bowl today.
Glass.
I wasn’t paying attention, and it fell.
Shattered.
I saw the shards scatter
like hard little tears.
They rained across the floor.
Wood.
The surface smooth, cold.
Unyielding.
The bowl was so fragile
it didn’t have a chance.
I bent down to the floor.
Kneeled.
Held a slice between my fingers.
Peered.
I could see my eye reflected
in the tiny mirror.
I saw before I knew.
Tears.
I slumped against the wall, shoulders shaking.
Sobbed.
I was so helpless, weak.
It was just too much to take.
Why my bowl?
Why that floor?
Why today?
Why now?
Why ever?
How?
Today was our anniversary,
and I broke a bowl. Glass.
I sobbed.
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