Broken Heart

Broken Heart

It doesn’t make sense.

It’s Spring!

Poppies are bursting bright with orange,

lupines are stretching to the sky

But pieces of my heart are fluttering

down, down, down

to another season

and the shards are strewn around me like broken glass

with limited vision

I scramble to collect and reassemble the pieces

one by one they spike and bleed me

still, I stretch for them

Meanwhile

the poppies flutter their delicate but resilient skirts

To the sun.