I may remain broken; filling in the
Cracks whenever I can.
I'll move on and notice the absurdity
In the pebbles sleeping on the tile
And in the short-lived words of temporary
Acquaintances.
There are secrets in a glass of water
On the counter.
There is much more in an odd sprout
Growing where others deem impossible.
I'll pick up my fragments and continue
To look and try to simply understand.