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Board Administrator Username: mjm Post Number: 4398 Registered: 11-1998 |
Honorable Mention The Breaking of the Glass Lisa Janice Cohen I. Beneath the chuppah, I took a vow-- wither thou goest, I will go; and wither thou lodgest; I will lodge. And God as my witness I meant it, believed that cleaving unto you would still the tremor in my hands, unclench my teeth. Fear seeps through my skin, soaks my shirt. II. This is the physics of uncertainty. Even gravity fails. I am falling up. Ink floats off the pages of my journal. Your letters unwrite themselves. III. Dishes leap into the sink. I drown them in steaming suds. The front door slams, a wet glass slips, shatters at my feet. You turn the water off, kiss my blistered palms. IV. On our wedding day, you didn't stomp a wineglass. Instead, the rabbi wrapped a lightbulb in a white cloth. A symbol of a symbol far easier to break. We clean the floor carefully. Sweep then vacuum. One less to pack. V. After we seal the last carton, after the van drives away, light echoes off white walls, finds the last bits of broken glass. |
