To catch a clean line at the rim,
hold the bright ping of crystal in your mind,
feel its chime as if a bell resonates
through your fingers, the secret basilicas
inside their bones. Become clear as glass,
mimic its patience, the way it awaits
what it once held—ripe, red raspberries,
an ivory mound of Devonshire cream.
Feel the tipping point of fragile and strong
as it teeters at the end of your slender nib,
and restrain your charcoal—think moth wing,
milkweed, a flux of air against candle flame
and breathe any dust away. A smudge is indelible.
This poem originally appeared in Bell Jar Glass (Finishing Line P, 2012).
Gaye McKenney lives and writes in south-central Indiana. Her work has appeared in the North American Review and New Millennium Writings, and her first chapbook The Bell Jar Glass was published in 2012 by Finishing Line Press.
Indiana Humanities is posting a poem a day from Indiana poets in celebration of National Poetry Month.