Today, I dropped my favorite mirror.

Watched as glass shattered

and conch shells cracked.

 

It hurts more than the shards cutting into my feet.

 

One, two, three, four,

I counted all the pieces.

Five, six, seven, eight, nine

put it in a neat plastic bag.

 

I lit all my incense,

and draped it in white.

But I couldn’t bear to

throw it out tonight.

 

So its glass shards laid on the floor cutting into my feet.

 

Checked once and twice and thrice,

Spared no expense in its burial.

But how do I pay the price

of sending it off?

 

So tomorrow

I closed my eyes and counted to three,

threw it in the bag with glee

and watched as it fell

down

the garbage chute.

 

One, two, three, four

pieces in a neat plastic bag.

Five, six, seven, eight, nine,

soon to disappear from my mind.

 

Ten,

the final piece.

It’s wedged in my heart

and it reflects the pale moonlight.