No Man | Sara Staheli

Five lone earrings
Of varying style and appeal.
Each without its mate.
Each with a story
Of lobes,
Tangled hair,
Dangling beauty
Reflected in light.
Lying on sidewalks,
With grass blades,
By dirt clods.

Goodness knows
These earrings came by
No accidental discovery.
I found them.
I kept them.
I did.
No man
Saw the beauty
Or understood the rapture
In those sharp, subtle instruments
Of glamour.