Wednesday, February 07, 2007

Scattered Glass


As a quiet lass walks along the shore

She stops and picks a piece of broken glass

Whose smooth, polished edge the ocean has worn.

Such are memories of moments you pass.

The scenes you live as the infinite stretch

Across your minds’ beach, scattered glass and stone

And only the odd piece do you bend to fetch

Omitting all others the tide has thrown.

Pass me not without pause, O lass so shy!

I yearn to be in the warmth of thy hand.

Slowly regard our time in your minds’ eye,

Take me from descent in seaside’s quick sand.

I live for your breath and hope it gives me

Yet ever to you but a memory I’ll be.