fragments

the light at sunrise reached up
to the frost on my window
and, touching it, broke into a hundred pieces,
each a different color,
each falling to the floor
then moving slowly toward the far wall
in vain effort at reunification.

by sunset the frost had gone from my window.
i believe it will return by morning,
as will the sunrise,
as each day becomes a different colored
splinter of life,
each moving slowly forward
in vain effort at reunification.

1992