split and falling off
the string. Scattering all
around the floor, rolling
out the door. Clouded pebbles

filled with rain hide in nooks
from the broken chain. Dust bunnies
ate a couple. She took the strand,
empty, not supple to the man

behind the glass. But it wasn't light
despite all vacant tenants. And no
pennants for the years of work
to add to the string making worth

the gifts of a milky mother
clung as young to the hanging
teats of the udder.