Mosaic

By Lisa Janice Cohen

I
Sunlight tickles my eyes.
Dancing dust whirls around me,
wrapped in a blanket of ice blue sky.
Glass beads pool in my hand like water. I spill them out,
follow the sparkling flow.
Cool to touch, they soothe my soul.
I sort them in a pattern only I could know.

II.
Faces blur, features indistinct.
I recognize a voice, a walk.
Talcum and lavender breeze past.
I rock forward and back,
watch a gold star
cast six-pointed shadows across my desk.

III
Words weave spells, spider webs
strung across the rafters of my mind.
Stories stuck to sticky threads, fill my head
with worlds of wonder. I inhale books
breathe their soft spicy scent.
Flip smooth pages back and forth across my face.

IV
Red rover red rover don't call me
over and over I walk along the playground fence,
slap my hand against cold metal links.
Only this chain unbroken.

V
I press glass shards together
bit by bit into a mosaic of memories.
Fingers raw, soul splintered,
I bleed the wounds clean.

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