by Catherine Broughton

Love is made of glass, so quickly shattered

He thought he'd made a mistake.

She left so suddenly, never a word,

He hadn't realized she wouldn't take

Any more of that anger, that snapping dog

That he is when crossed.

She left. He lost.

Love is made of glass, suddenly broken

He always patched it up later. Soften.

How could she just go, just leave, after all

This time? It was just once too often,

The unkind word, the narrowed eyes.

This is the cost:

She left. He lost.

Catherine Broughton