A Poem for Saturday

On a Vandalised Rear Window

Saturday’s sun
gleamed and glinted
through clinging shards
at the frayed fringes,
a dramatic display,
though temporary.

I have no interest
in redress or retribution.
Instead I rejoice
in the casual glitter
of the shattered glass
as it glances fire.

Diamond pieces
that spangle the seat
recall the ice that sealed
our school-going puddles
and invited heels to smash,
substituting chaos
for frigid cohesion.

Michael Farry

This poem was written as a result of finding one sunny Saturday morning that the rear window of my car had been broken during the night. Life is too short to worry or get angry about these small things especially when insurance covers it and the new glass is fitted on the spot. Is it just my imagination or was there more cold weather when we were young? Smashing ice on puddles in the pot-holed pre-tarmacadamed roads was always a pleasure then.