Windswept

Smiling, I stood in the doorway
Staring at the broken shards
Lying scattered all over the bloodstained carpet

Then the cleaning lady pushed past me
Sweeping up the small pieces of glass
Silently cursing me
With her accusing glares
Muttering about always having to clean up
The mess, after everyone has gone

If only everything could really be cleaned
Until it became just like before
Untouched
Unstained
Unbroken.

The stained carpet could be replaced
(Just flatten your purse a little)
The broken ornament easily swept away
(Don't cut yourself, though)

But can love be replaced?
Can it be swept away
With a brush or two from you?

I stepped forward slowly
Picking up the wilted flowers
That fell together with the vase
Mercilessly flung onto the floor
The water quickly seeping away
And I felt the soft touch of sorrow.

Caught between the petals
Were small drops of dew
Like the tears of the morning glory
I picked up a bunch of wilted flowers
But it felt like I had just
Embraced sorrow.

The clatter of the cleaning lady's broom
Against the door frame
Pulled me back instantly
From my little world of illusion
To face the bigger, fiercer
World of reality.

Everyone's crying
But why am I still smiling?

            I saw the tears of the morning glory.