Mosaic

 

Where one

Then two tiles

Become unlocked

From the mosaic

They run free

Scatter

Now blue stones

And black

Crisp

And Geometric

Are easily kicked

By passing feet

And fumbled by fingers

Of curious toddlers

Meanwhile

The whole mosaic

Thus wounded

Begins to give

Loosens

In breaks and tears

Each scar promising

Some eventual extinction

Of shapes and patterns

That once reassured

This special place

With the beauty

Of their confident form

Perhaps it can be repaired

‘A stitch in time’ they say

The damage might be limited

Before the lines of loosened tiles

Run too far

Irredeemable

Perhaps here

In this magic garden

We can

After all

Arrest time