Thank you, Anni. Maybe I'm a masochist because I do like making things difficult for myself. I considered rhyming each line as well, but that was a bridge too far. Perhaps next time...
Raindrops tapping upon the pane,
fingernails scraping a shriek,
Jack Frost etchings in splinter,
a moistened finger rubs the rim,
the tumbler rings with an errant tap,
all these the sound of sparkling glass,
till ended with the myriad shards
of voices as it shatters.
Line count: 8
Free verse
For Express It In Eight, 05.17.23
Prompt: The Sound of Glass by Karen White.
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