A sample poem--
Petra Genetrix
I won't replace lost wedding cutlery,
its broad straight limbs,
with new shallow spoons,
their writhing shoulderless handles--
Lines get broken.
All I see in museums
is the frozen watchfulness of a previous home.
Ancient knives found under Eden Walk are flints
polished in an age defined by how it ate.
There's no matching greenstone and dolomite
though I could still buy old patterns,
shell, feather, rat tail.
'Granny, did you throw away your silver?'
'The table of the moon is laid with it.'
Claire Crowther
The Clockwork Gift (Shearsman, 2009)
Sheer Brilliance.
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