2
A loop of metal
& a clasp at the end
of a chain
Two french wires
& the bones
of miniature chandeliers
Four prongs that seat
a gem of doubtful
pedigree
This window light
is mute to tell
what they cost
but they’re given
now to me— The only
instruction, that I
remember who I am
& that a stone has facets
time whittles constantly
In response to an entry from the Morning Porch.
OTHER POSTS IN THE SERIES
- [poem removed by author]
- Meander
- In the hotel with thin walls and the name of a poet,
- Close Reading
- Soul Spa
- The difficulty
- Museum
- Gnosis
- When we speak through a medium
- Whatever it is
- Synecdoche
- Uncle Frank warned my father
- Suddenly
- What can you hear in this downpour?
- Cursive
- Fantasmagoria
- Sketches for a Genealogy