Glass Ghosts, Unbroken

Everywhere I go now

I carry small pieces of green glass with me,

Worn smooth by the ceaseless sea,

And made pale by the powerful sun.

Broken and discarded yet also a small token of delight.

Each time I find some lying on the beach,

I pick it up. I pocket it.

And always it makes me think of you.

Sometimes I am surprised, shocked that time had passed without me realising,

since I thought about you last.

And I will always wonder,

And ask myself so many questions,

All borne from my guilt or my anger or my grief,

For I always thought that you would win.

Yet perhaps I am looking at all your battles

from all the wrong angles.

And maybe you did.

It still hurts, just like the pain of pressing on a bruise,

A disbelieving cry caught in the throat of frozen time.

Although it aches less most days than it once did,

And I have learned to live with that.

For every time I find those small pieces of green glass,

I cannot help but smile.

For these are messages to remind me of

my purpose here,

To know where I fit now in this world,

Still with you yet without you,

As I remember you fondly once again.