Shattered

I dropped the vase And watched it shatter As it hit the tile floor. Shards of glass exploded Outward, Skidding and spinning In every direction. I just stood there Staring at the remains, Remembering my Mom's Wildflowers in that vase On the kitchen table Years ago. She’d picked them often, I’d watch her from The window As she carefully selected the brightest ones, Focus and determination Etched on her face. She’d fill the vase with Her bouquet, Arranging them just so, And commenting on How much she loved wildflowers. But the vase that once held My mom’s wildflower treasures Is now broken beyond repair, It’s glass pieces scattered All around me.