Glass
Don’t tell me the moon is shining;
show me the glint of light on broken glass.
Anton Chekhov
the thunderclap
of breaking pane,
frightening.
splintered shards -
remains
of jagged lightning.
those tears I bleed…
my fist is raw.
blackness crawls
out of
the shattered hole.
a fearsome
flood of grinding rain
insane.
my knuckles sore
black and blue.
i’ve kicked a metaphor -
the dog. its bite
worse than the storm.
the glass-eye moon
reflects my mood,
outside the door,
where i was rash.
those tears i bleed
on a handkerchief
so I won’t forget
the glass…so I won’t forget
the glass…
2/22/2023
Writing Challenge - G Words
Constance La France - sponsor
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