POEM INDEX
sweeping glass


my mother's way of
sweeping glass
is the one I use

whatever has shattered
I ease towards
the brown bag
carefully, carefully
I tease shards
until they disappear
into my paper safety

I hunt the danger down
and check for stragglers
lurking
to bleed me later

whatever has been shattered


Copyright 2004 Jody Serey. All Rights Reserved.