another one...

Vase

The strong, thin glass

of this clear, tall vase

gleamed as sunlight

reflected

which held water and

vibrant-colored bright flowers

orange and pink, fresh smelling

petals reaching out in

artistic directions

with a smooth, calm, surface

polished and perfect

reflecting light from the world

around it

now, it starts with a

small division, a line

drawn within the glass

due to a strong force

against it

a line travels like a route

on a map

as it shatters slowly

as thin-as-a-hair fractures

expand into tree branch

cuts

and the whole becomes

a series of stained-glass

style parts

without the strong glue

to maintain

structural integrity

as each fragment

falls from the form

like a bridge losing grip

and collapsing

sharp puzzle pieces

with razor edges

and white, clear dust

until there is no form

remaining

and it reflects no light

it holds no water

leaving flowers to fade

from thirst

it is a heap of sharp

shards

it is not a vase

it will never been one again