HINTING -- April 7, 2006

 

She swept recklessly a goblet of wine

with the back of her hand -- and it broke.

It was an old goblet, no gift of mine

but a heirloom of yore a casual poke

 

sent rolling down the tablecloth to soak

of red spilled wine  -- a bloody line

and then a clink -- like a deathly joke

the brim fell out as does a petal fine

 

of a wilted rose.   With a wry smile,

she tossed away the shards and said no way

there was for keeping broken glass as token

 

of past memories from a lost while.

And such is a love, that, once broken,

no longer can be kept, but 's thrown away.