breaking glass // poetry

you first saw me through a glass window

on that cold, November day --

and you fell in love at the first sight, 

or so you would later say. 

the trees were bare and desolate,

their arms against the sky,

and our reflections chased after us

as we went walking by. 

we talked about the future - 

our dreams as open books, 

laid out for all the world to see

if they would only dare to look. 

an image of us was frozen

on a screen that frosty day, 

a snapshot the only fragment 

of the "us" that was to stay. 

we traced our steps back to where we met

and stood at the exact spot 

just as lightning struck the sidewalk

with the echo of a gunshot. 

we walked a hundred miles, 

moments sweet like old champagne - 

and your lips briefly brushed mine

before we parted in the rain.  

you swore that you would write to me

before a single day could pass,

but your promises faded, as did you, 

with the sound of breaking glass. 

[breaking glass, november 5th, 2016] 

//

haven't been writing too much poetry lately - moving 1,800 miles across the country, job hunting, adulting and writing a novel will have that effect - but here's one i wrote over a year ago, forgot about and just rediscovered. xo