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A piece of glass
On the beach.
Brought by misfortune
And bad intentions
With an unknown path
And influention.

It lies on the sand,
Blue against cream.
All strange edges
And spines
Made sharp
Over time.

A wave washes over
Again and again.
Soft as a susurrus,
Smooth as the sky,
The wave whispers gentle truths
And sometimes a lie.

Time passes on it's own
Slower than slow.
The glass is no longer sharp
And sparkles under the sun.
The wave now knows
Its duty is done.

A child sees the glass,
A piece of sky on the sand.
The child separates it from
The rest of the rocks
And puts it on a shelf
Inside of a box.

The child will look at it
Every now and then.
And though the box will grow dusty
As time will pass,
We will remember what a wave did
To a piece of glass.