Shards 

I can never remake the thing I have destroyed;
   I brushed the golden dust from the moth’s bright wing,
I called down wind to shatter the cherry-blossoms,
   I did a terrible thing.

I feared that the cup might fall, so I flung it from me;
   I feared that the bird might fly, so I set it free;
I feared that the dam might break, so I loosed the river:
   May its waters cover me.
Credit

This poem is in the public domain. Published in Poem-a-Day on May 12, 2018, by the Academy of American Poets.

About this Poem

“Shards” was published in Vigils (George H. Doran Company, 1921).