The Yellow Table

I dreamed
that the giant glass tabletop
that was supposed to protect
the yellow wood from dings
and nicks and coffee drips had
fallen on me.

Pinned to the ground beneath its weight
I balanced it with both hands.
Soon it was too heavy and I couldn’t hold it.
When I released the glass to the hardwood
floor it shattered.
One-million micro-pieces like fireworks.

I was embarrassed
and those nearby didn’t notice
or mind walking on the broken shards.
The glass spread like moss into every room
.I began sweeping as the others watched.
Nobody spoke a word.

Grace. Maybe.

An Ode to Women