Shards Of Glass Poem by Francie Lynch

A long unopened folder
Fell from a shelf,
Spewing unfinished poems
Across the room
Like shards of colored glass,
Edged as sharp as razor wire.
We know those fragments;
And how deep they can cut.
They speak of life and death,
Love and leaving,
Good, evil, and Roads.
Lots of roads.
I should arrange them
In a stained glass mosaic,
Like you would see in Winchester.
Not much symmetry,
But the piecemealed pieces
Tell the story of my Inquisition.
Winchester Cathedral: The stained glass windows there are a mosaic of shattered glass. Cromwell threw the bones of ancient Kings through the windows, but the people collected the shards and piecemealed them back together, but there is no distinguishable pictures, just a mosaic of colored glass.