1. These pieces scattered about
    Shattered about your knees
    That you gather in your hands
    And strain eyes and furrow brow to see

    Are they a painting or a
    Photoed face – I think
    I see the corner of a
    Mouth – and did that eye blink?

    Hard within your shell
    Sitting apart in your corner
    You always were a quiet girl –
    Not really living in the real world

    Lady in the tower weaving
    Turning from her task and leaning
    Out towards the window leaving
    Her shell, her prison, life.

    Assembling the pieces of
    The broken mirror – blades of
    Glass slice skin and flow blood –
    The fragments move – the pictures change

    Look away from this broken
    Image – this deserted place –
    Take joy to ease your mourning
    Beauty for the ashes of your face.

    SD 2005

    Liked by 1 person

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