The news broke,
scattered shards of words.
Reporters rushed to brush them up
with a broom and dustpan,
each one with different words,
different opinions,
different commercials.
The news broke,
scattered shards of words.
I rushed to brush them up
and threw them in the trash.
Birds in the branches
twittered what I needed -
the breaking weather report.
published in Sonnets to Sing
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