I stood over it

Looking down, in wonder

A fragment

One tiny piece, without a home

What is it?

Where did it come from?

How did it get here,

In the middle of this large room?

part broken off

An isolated, unfinished, and incomplete part

There’s a story behind this

How it got here, where it belongs

But this tiny fragment isn’t saying

It speaks no words about

How it was torn from the rest

And why it now sits,

Out of working order

And not functioning properly

In the middle of this large room

With no other pieces like it

© Dicky J Loweman 2015