Applying Glue to Broken Glass

a poem for Greta

photo by Ivan Vranic at Unsplash

Ash red chrysanthemums in the sky
halo the radio towers as piano
lounge lights wash the gentle river.

In the days of astonishment
sidewalks widen for passing smiles.
Street level windows reflect articulation.

It was fearful to breathe for years
and years, and then a child led us
to reconstruct oxygen.

Repair was all hope required
to bloom like a dahlia
in the aftermathing dawn.