A Broken Jar

like a movie

I saw myself at the table.

Paper, loose leaf

strewn about like fallen tree fingers

scattered in the sun.

I imagined I was feverishly writing

about memories we had caught;

like fire flies in a mason jar.

I saw us as we peered from opposite sides into the glow of the jar.

Great were the shadows the light did cast

till there was more of you that I couldn't see.

So I shook the jar

that slipped from my sweaty palms

as I tried to place it in your outstretched arms

it crashed

between our feet

and the light dispersed

our memories

pirouetting

into the space

between us.

I thought I might join you there

to sweep up the glass

but the table,

the tree fingers... disappeared...




I dusted and vacuumed instead.