Things That Break
©February 21st, 2019
By Vijaya Sundaram
Glittering drops of sunlight on
Stiff arms reaching up into space.
Unseen breeze shakes them off.
Bird cuts the sky into two.
The pieces fall down and shatter.
Waiting, waiting, there’s this wait
– And no one knows for what.
Even sadness is suspended.
I pick up a broken branch
From the field of snow,
Throw it in a spiralling arc
Across the pearl-grey air.
Falling, it lies supine, dull
No trace of life or movement,
I pick it up again, to fling it.
Snow-cold and dead,
It breaks in my grasp.
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