the drinking glass

you threw

across the room

shattered

against the wall

I had said

a wrong thing

I still hear

the explosion

fracturing the quiet

see sharp shards

stick straight up

in plush amber carpet

we were barefoot

that was years ago

if I could now

I would 

put on shoes

walk across

plush carpet

pick up shards

color them

fashion them

into a stained glass window

through which I could

see

that weekend differently

the smell of rain

enveloping us

as we walked

at dawn

perhaps I could recall

the sweet note

pinned to our cottage door

welcoming us

by name

Susan Flynn has been published in Late Peaches, An Anthology of Sacramento Poets; No Achilles, An Anthology of War Poetry; Tule Review; Oberon Poetry Magazine; WomenArts Quarterly; Adirondack Review; Slab and Cosumnes River Journal. Susan is the author of a chapbook, Seeing Begins in the Dark, and she is currently in the process of pursuing a publisher. She has also attended several writing workshops and studied under Mark Doty, Fenton Johnson, Marie Howe, Ellen Bass, Carl Phillips, Susan Kelly-DeWitt, Kate Asche, and Pat Schneider. Susan has her BA in American Literature and her PhD in Clinical Psychology, and currently works as a clinical psychologist and a university professor. She lives in Sacramento and enjoys fly fishing, writing, photography, and playing the piano.