How Arguments Go

By Maureen Doallas

Pieces never tell the whole story.
Safety glass still breaks;
it just doesn’t shatter.

Heat escapes through clear glass,
its pattern unseen in fragments
but no less visible.

Opaque glass,
like shades pulled against sun,
hides what most any fool can catch in light.

She’s got her side. He has his.

Chipped words go air-borne
when thrown against the mirror.

Clean-up happens by fits and starts.

Cuts can be on the surface,

or slide slickly along fault lines.

Sometimes it takes a probe
and a camera’s eye to show you

what you’re looking for.

Windows in wind rattle,
at night shadow

Roughed edges

the dog’s bone half-consumed.

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