Emma

14

River Glass

Just for fun,
they broke a bottle on the rocks.

Pieces, sharp and jagged
left on the sand
hidden in folds of the velvety night.

Greet the sun
with a wink and a glimmer.
still sitting.

Pulled by the current
swift and sure
Running over sharp edges
and making them smooth.

Millions of droplets
passing each day
time.

Moon and sun pass,
soften, transfigure.
The river takes the broken glass
and makes it its own.

Birds, bugs, beasts.
They move.
The glass is still.

Like cheese fermenting,
the glass is transformed.
Like wounded hearts,
growing back twisted.

Sink and slip,
the sand swallows
the transparent amber glass.

Some call it healing
the sharp edges start to round
but the glass will never be whole
because it is broken.
And once things are broken,
they are never the same.

The glass forgets
its old form.
Letting go, and growing into
something new
Lost, to the circadian rhythms
of the waves.

Dissonance between worlds
the humans that break
and the nature that softens.

The river glass falls
beneath the rolling waves
sinks to the bottom
and forgets.