Written years ago

[Spirit]

Broken Glass Mending

The worst is past
Broken glass is mending
at long last

The glue, the Lord
He poureth warm oil
soothing, on my head

The tears come, of course,
from the past
The loss of my father to whom
I never spoke of love or respect

His only daughter, strong willed
and gregarious, like he
is finally mending