a wine glass can break into 57 pieces.
57. shards displaced in blades of grass,
on sidewalk meant for chalk and rainbows.
small, meticulously sharp.
find their way from the confines of communion
to the trenches of brokenness, of depravity, of no hope.
it is a fallen world that put the pieces there;
understanding that quietly picks them up;
and love that takes another glass from the counter-
returning it to the position of wine and bread-
blood and body.