THE GLASSBLOWER
It started with chewing gum.
how to insert confetti
in bubbles she blew,
how to tie the bubbles like balloons
and hang the pink globes
in her bedroom, part rattle
part chinese lantern.
Now she traps sunshine
in glass ornaments
and drapes incandescent orbs,
in her garden
to help tomatoes grow.
She can blow glass
around anything, and has encased,
moonlight and twilight,
sandstorms, smoke from a volcano
in Indonesia, spume from
the Adriatic Sea,
water from a thermal spring
in Iceland. These hang
throughout her house
in bulbs shaped like tear drops,
an exhibit of natural curiosities
protected by glass.
She wants them
destroyed when she dies,
stomped like glass
at a Jewish wedding.
It is, she imagines, what
death must be like:
something shattered,
something released.
By Cindy Hunter Morgan
The poem is from the new chapbook “The Sultan, The Skater, the Bicycle Maker.” Hunter’s work has appeared in “West Branch”, “the Christian Science Monitor” and “Weave.” She has worked as publicity director for both the Grand Rapids and Lansing Symphony Orchestras. She is a graduate of Albion College and lives in East Lansing Michigan. Her new chapbook is published by Ledge Press.
This is lovely.