On the Umpteenth Gift of a Lucite Brooch


As craft goes, so the repeated song
in its variations, each day's performance
much like many others, mostly,
in deft turns of the point
of consciousness through the clear
substrate of time, shaping the structures
of meaning, the sheer luminescence
of being that equally inform our product,
this plastic flow.  Yet each occasion
has its special qualities,
born in the play of intents
and trembling flesh.  Through the surface noise,
the grime of small abrasions, their essences
shine, exposing the commonest gesture
in unique setting, tinting the floral pattern
in new complexities of hue, exposing a burst
of passion in deep-cut setting
ringed by its own refractions, a proud
figure in solitary grace.  Next time
a familiar form will glow from unusual angles,
the touch of spring encircle thy wrist,
the bluebird of happiness glow
in a cloudless sky, as we follow
this play of personality through what
has been saved of the craft
that can inscribe a universe
in such stuff as in ourselves.


for Karen
25 Dec 94


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