Sharp Glass

Shattered glass in the street at Maryland and 10th: smashed sand glittering on a beach of black asphalt. You can think of it so: or as bits of broken kaleidoscope, or as crystals spilled from the white throat of a geode. You can use metaphor to move the glass as far as possible from the raised hands that threw the bottle for their own reasons of amusement, or despair, or the desire to make a cymbal crash in the ears of midnight sleepers. Or you can use words like your needle, the probe curious in tough heels, your bare feet having walked in risky places. You can work to the surface the irritant, pain, the glass sliver to blink in the light, sharp as a question.