Jigsaw I

Awkward pieces suddenly fit -
books, paper, hoarded over years
put away till now it yells

out of the dark and into the hand
so obvious -

small burning globe, dark jade
I could have stumbled, kicked it
viewed it as so much dross

glowing quietly, lost for words
abandoned to the dark
it could have stayed there

faltered, dimmed, and gone out.
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