And assess the damage

Of your stained-glass worlds

Try not to score your bandaged fingers

On shards that catch expiring dreams

Now paste them back together

Just pray they’ll stay this time

Destroy your telescope

See the future from behind


And line them up against the dock

Your worlds so fragile-made

And come contribute to the bay

Of dreams now gone to shade

Float your picture-window

Into amethystine end


And you linger on the border

Wanting to amend

But you’ve known behind your eyes

They would not wait for you

Gliding, melting, shimmering

You will have them nevermore


And as you turn away

You, the tearless weeper

I see a teardrop softly fall

Falling into sleep

Copyright © Bethany Richardson 2012


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