Postcard From Murano Poem by Gary Witt
Postcard From Murano
We see each other
Through the crystalline aftermath
Of a heated, three-way debate
Among sand, salt, and lime,
Whipped to a silicic frenzy
That causes light to grimace
Into cringing colors.
A dilution, an enhancement:
We shape our vision,
Rolling, blowing, pushing, pulling,
Working quickly
Before it cools and cracks.
Then we call seeing a passive event,
Behind the glass.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
4/18/2024 6:35:03 PM # 1.0.0.1119
I love Venice...and Murano glass.... and all my memories are revived!