GLASSMAKER

It is Christmas in the brown glass

Woods, snowfall on the windblown grass

As smooth as see-through astroturf, 

Birches black as winter surf

 

Inside the cloudy silver dome

Of day, blizzard shook like foam

Around the growing liquid dark,

The evening sky as stark

 

And silent as my trembling hand

That shakes this little world like sand.

 

November 2nd, 1993

Tippet Alley

 

NOTES ON GLASSMAKER