ARRvol34 master reduced - Flipbook - Page 82
Shattered Glasses
Vasilisa Rutsch
A little girl sits in the kitchen,
Where her parents are doing the dishes.
They laugh as they clean up porcelain
Plates and bowls, crystal wine glasses,
Silver forks, fine china teacups,
And rustling foil chocolate wrappers.
She twists a piece of foil around her finger,
Shaping it like a tiny silver goblet.
A soapy crystal glass slips out
Of her young mother’s wet fingers.
It falls to the floor, shatters and jingles.
Her mother looks at her husband
With a question in her radiant eyes.
He picks up another crystal glass
And dashes it upon the floor
With a mischievous twinkle in his eyes:
“To happiness!”
The woman snatches one more glass
And flings it so it bursts into sparkling pieces:
“To good luck!”
Their hearty laughter rings like happy bells.
The girl will remember it years later,
When all the teacups are chipped,
When their laughter sounds hoarse,
When they avoid reflections in each other’s eyes,
And the words they exchange pierce and cut
Like sharp shards of crystal.
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