BOWLFUL OF MARBLES
She keeps her emotions in a glass bowl
on the sill of a south-facing window.
You've seen all the colorful, perfect spheres,
some flecked with twisted ribbons
of green, red, gold, blue, intermingling hues
as the sun slowly passes.
Different sizes and styles:
the sly cat's eyes; the uncanny clears;
big, angry shooters; silly solids painted with daisies or dots;
the few shoulder-chipped strays
from old Chinese checkers.
Marbles collected game after game, year after year,
in a rounded container filled to the brim;
some buried by others,
less seen or less used;
all hard to crack but easily shattered.
You only wanted
one particular blue ribboned marble.
But you couldn't take it
without touching all the others.
Come: Dig your hand
and feel how the cool, smooth glass
tumbles round your fingers,
rolls off your knuckles,
clinks against the walls.
Feel the weight of the whole bowl.
Describe a typical family dinner while you were growing up. Use all of your senses to describe the scene.