Poetry

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They point out all the ugliness,
but their words fall flat
compared to one small thing
a rhinestone.
Just a tiny piece
of chiseled glass,
set near the core
of the pin.

In it's day
it held many more.
What's suprising is
that it's still intact.

You say it would only be good
if all the stones
were in place.
If there were no rust
or decay.

There is some beauty
in the fact
that through the years
and weather
it hangs in there alone
and still sparkles
like it's first day.

You can't help
but be drawn to it.
It's haggard surroundings
only magnify
it's hope.

2006 (c) H. Stone

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