Remnants of Happy



REMNANTS OF HAPPY


They are everywhere,
Shattered fragments,
broken pieces,
jeweled splinters.
The remnants of Happy
littering the sidewalks,
clogging the sewers.

They dart from our grasp;
silverfish on speed,
reflecting back at us
what we thought,
how we felt,
the way we kissed.

With the strength of our hearts
we pick at them,
clutch them in bloodied fingers
and lose them again,
only to catch another
in the sparkle of our eye.

Precious few we save,
making for ourselves
a mosaic.
A good time here,
joyous moment there,
held together with
the glue of Hope.

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©2025 Christopher Reilley
 
Shared with those building on the broken over at  DVerse Poets.

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Comments

  1. Your title was a bit of a giveaway, Chris, but that doesn’t spoil the poem – it’s shift from ‘broken pieces’ and ‘jeweled splinters’ to a mosaic ‘held together with the glue of Hope’. Wistfully beautiful.

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  2. So much to mend, so much shattered... but with a bit of hope maybe we may mend it,

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  3. Many get left on the pavement, or cried out of the eye, yet the ones we gather "in bloodied fingers" are precious, although few, and can tip the balance to happy again, if only fleetingly. From Kathy at writingpresence.com, not poeming tonight.

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  4. Wow. Love the references and imagery used here, especially those "silverfish on speed". Thank goodness for the glue of hope.

    ~Mish

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  5. Very nearly humorous but the overall sense of loss prevails.

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  6. I like the idea of gathering the remnants into pieces of a mosaic to remember the happy times.

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  7. Such a wonderfully expressed metaphor for building a life in spite of and sometimes because of its pain.

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  8. I'm glad there's some hope, along with the remnants of happy.

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  9. Wow! That first stanza is loaded! I love these three lines: "The remnants of Happy / littering the sidewalks, / clogging the sewers." Very urban feel. I love it. -aaron g.

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  10. My goodness, what a READ! That whole first stanza is amazing. I love the idea of "the remnants of happy" and how you turned those sharp, painful shards into something positive with the idea of the mosaic with hope as the glue.

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