Flying Shards

The glass grew cloudy through the years
Secrets and distrust colored the pane
Tiny glints of light occasionally shone through
But the original sparkle was forever dimmed.
A spider web of cracks began in a corner
Unnoticed at first
Ignored later on
Making the plate too fragile to hold to the frame
We'd constructed long ago.
The fragmented pane eventually shattered
The sharp edges cutting my heart, head and hands.
We didn't try to replace what used to be
But worked the open casement as an excuse
To distance ourselves from the pain.
Backing away from the razor's edge
I began to heal
And eventually turning, I realized
That flying shards had
Pierced our children
Opening fresh wounds
Leaving scars
And the exposed window had permitted
A fierce cold wind to cut them, too.