I think about how to measure
the worth of one's self
at the weirdest times
hunkered down
studying the lines of my feet
trimming the faded pink nails
almost always
these clean spare moments
dash to pieces
the crystal sphere of truth
I've held in esteem
becoming shards that wickedly,
in snaggle toothed grinning
catch my face in reflection
as they lie in final throes
twitching on the ground

by Sheryl McCurdy