For my fellow writers in Forest Lake

I started this in Holly Hardin's winter writing seminar last night.  A place filled with honesty, humor, talent, and sincerity, I hope to know all of you not just as writers, but as human beings as well.  With you, I'm a little less "fragmented."

Fragmented

This is how it goes
when broken in fragments
of two,
In one place, for sure
I remain;
roots bound deep and seeking,
in dry desert silt,
but a lack of presence
makes life grow barren,
and in searching for the sustenance
of presence,
they moved on
to find their needs met
through no fault of their own.

Another place,
strange.
frozen, and sparkling
with only intermittent color,
intriguing nonetheless.
An out of place adornment,
up for scrutiny,
A generous heart is mine,
but to risk it?
They reach out,
retracting their hand
in the same motion
Yet I find the courage
to not look away,
As I face the notion
of giving in
and putting my broken pieces
back as one.