After the shatter,
Shards scattered
In chaos across the floor,
Lodging in cracks,
Sliding under furniture,
Generally making recovery
Unthinkable.
I'd just sweep up,
Start over,
Make it less fragile
Next time around.
But he did not.
He still saw beauty
In each crash-blown sliver
And wanted them back,
No matter the cost.
So he stooped down,
Lower than low,
Reached for each one,
Braved cuts and scrapes,
Bruises and baffling rejection,
To somehow recover
His broken treasure.
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