GOING THROUGH SHARDS SMOOTH

feeling at loss for words

at a time obscures and still searching

almost outshines even a diamond 

the smooth glass shards

shaped by the tide

that laid inside the shadowed light

constructing a charm 

that was pressed into a gem 

as every poem is, as is, each magic touch 

my fingers going through 

shards smooth I can feel the shroud 

of darkness falling over the moon

consuming on and gone a little of its light

I read, I write, I dream by

so to form by in my room 

a little bit I'm hearing that too

staring at the broken glass of picture frames

from maybe sunken ships or planes 

that sheltered  

that comforted 

with clear clouded sight

something elsewhere to pick

and there in it was outlasting

a housing of pain

the little nite-lite you gave shines grave

on the broken glass of course 

going through shards smooth

reflecting of pictures 

of a broken into pieces past

and then abruptly the morning 

broke through my window 

and I can see the sea

without a word or a sound

outta me one view 

how it all shattered I look'd in the water

hiding them always best left near 

the sand to find

what do I hear in the air disappears

overhanging shadows

over the waters

now and then call

and I saw something toss'd off the edge 

through a fragment

that the living had made

and love has refined

through a time so grand

and glorious

and my grieving begins to mend

myself again