Studio 

“You can place any two similar things 

together and call them lovers, 

a duet,” I tell myself		 soldering 

two tear drop shapes into a heart.  

I’ve taken up the study of glass, 

making pendants (window, profile,

crucifix). The materials 	are light 

and generous. Little wet clumps 

of sand fly off the diamond grinding 

drill bit, landing on my plastic 

goggles. The width of foil 

corresponds with the width of glass. I cover 

all the shards with silver. Lead surrenders

in earnest. I test 

with volume, joining the fragments 

slant, all the while thinking 

about home. I make a structure— 

freestanding, precarious—the glass 

atop stacked cedar logs and one 

iron chain. It became a portrait 

of my mother. She’s so beautiful.    

I’m making father now, he’s larger,

transparent, with a pink botanical 

form that hangs and a fracture 

through the middle. He'll live

on the ground, beneath her.