Priceless pearls scattered as the necklace
Was snapped, ripped away by greedy
Hands, envious of your sublime beauty
And even gentler encouragement. Bounced
Every one of them cross cobblestones, cracks,
And down the storm drain irretrievable.
Holding that golden empty promise string
Your fountain of tears so scalded my soul.
Could I but hold you, say comforting words,
I would have. But words are trite when the heart
Is blistered in injustice’s heat.
We gathered what we could, returning
To the Sea, knifing open more oysters
Restringing your dream, one pearl at a time.
David Palmer makes his home in Renton, Washington, just outside Seattle. As a former minister, and avid reader, he is a lover of poetry and has written 88 sonnets, mostly for the delight of his friends. He currently works for Bloodworks Northwest in Bellevue, Washington, a blood center supplying whole blood, platelets and plasma for transfusion to patients in hospitals in Alaska, Washington, and Oregon.