Always, they hold up two bowls, two plates, two signs—one for utility, the other for something frivolous (call it beauty or sweet- ness, polish or light). Simplicity of wood against telenovela swirls embedded in marble. Does it take second sight to free the figure pressing toward the chisel's point, the hammer's blows on rough stone; and could you really choose between a wildflower or the moon? The bee papers its hive in hexagons, a geometry that holds the most weight. Cool air, vaulted ceilings— Some birds soar above the rafters, others make a career of conversing with the ground.
Purveyors of fine poetry since 2003.