One Day It's Valuable The Next It Isn't

A glass box is fragile

falls as if it were pushed by a ghost

It wasn’t your hand

not your elbow, not your thigh

you didn’t accidently bump it

It wasn’t the dog running around

not the boys playing with their cars

not the girl putting her legs

on the coffee table

nor the wind or the earth’s motion

The glass box broke

shattered into a million pieces

specs of crystal all over the floor