Beach Glass
Not very tumbled.
Not yet opaque, milky.
Still retaining the clarity
of what they are, or were.
Holding the laughter
or anger, hot romance
of a beach night on the rocks
before bottles smashed.
A fight, or an errant toss;
someone too young, too urgent
to attempt to find a trash can
(to say nothing of recycling).
What words passed between,
among the sweet evening air
as swifts replaced seagulls
and bottle rockets flew?
Drop the bottles where you are.
There are more important things.
Maybe someday, someone will
collect the broken shards,
tossed just enough to no longer
cut. See? She tests each one
on her finger; blunted edges
make treasure out of trash.
Marilyn Rauch Cavicchia 
treasure out of trash…i like that… there are def. things in life that cut us hard but also teach us valuable lessons… a fine woven write marilyn
lovely…sea glas is so pretty…interesting that it is the shards of something as you allude to here…maybe a fight, maybe just let go for something more…but still it is treasure…smiles.
Hi Marilyn – Oh gosh, I see what you mean! Lol. Love the poem – broken glass and beaches and recklessness. 🙂
This is really cool, reflecting on a broken glass, investing it again with life and memory and the human drama. This brings to life the inanimate in a way that tells so much about your craft and great imaginitive art.
Recently I was involved in a beach cleanup operation commemorating Ocean’s Day, so I guess I am the one of those picking up the broken glass left behind. You are right about the blunt edges, worn away by the sea and sand as tides come in and out.
I like the poem for the metaphor. Something part of fun and enjoyment smashed, over time they blunt, pieces could be picked up perhaps for recycling or even making art.