| |
Mourning a Broken Wineglass
Mourning a broken wineglass
Brittle and beautiful you were, you were.
Brittle and broken, you are, you are.
"A thing of beauty a joy forever?
O profundity I cannot measure.
All earthy things will surely pass.
Vessel of sanctity, frail glass,
To hold wine, not water, was your due.
I, who to the sink my treasure threw.
Must careless haste confess and rue.
Copyright ©
Julian Scutts
|