orange juice

The splintered glass takes 

A new shape when held up 

To the light

Illuminating its sharp edges

And imperfections 

It becomes hard to imagine what it once was

The cup that I held in my hand

Orange liquid, half filled

Slipped and shattered 

On the vinyl plank

Seeping into the cracks 

Stickiness that’s hard to clean

When the moment strikes 

My fingertips lose all strength

Grip trying, unsteady 

To hold too long is certainty 

That it will drop

But I tried and tried 

To make the inevitable stop

To bring to a halt the 

Fate destined plan

Woven tapestry by another’s hands

No matter my trickery to dissuade 

The passage of time, recited as a play

These words on a page 

Unchanging yet changed 

I had only a sip before the drink

Fell away 

And the cup that shattered on the floor

Is still glass, nothing more