Broken Healing
A wine bottle
Gently held in wrinkled hands;
Filled long ago with ripped papers
All about a lost love…
Or was it…
a pushed away love?
Or maybe it is…
a dead love?
Poems sit tucked tightly inside.
Papers press against all sides,
“Heat swaps owners
On the blue streaked
Kitchen counters”.
Letting go of the bottle,
It falls.
The glass fractures.
The past is alive again.
All the memories of you, long forgotten
Now, more powerful than ever.
Beautiful poems that gave peace once written,
Bring tears of sourly, sweet remembrance.
Gathering the words from the ground,
The passion seen in each stanza
Reminds to treasure the present
Before it too is a pile of sharp shiny memories.