By Gala
Date: 6 April 2000
Crystal Cut Like Me
Trying to find words to explain
that I have always been
the cut crystal figurine
in the shop off Park Avenue
with trays of cut glass wonderment
that I thought were class personified
when I was six, or eight, or ten.
Fragile?
Not leaded glass---
or not frail like some
spun glass confections.
I was made of tougher stuff,
But I wanted to be treasured,
regarded for my clairity
and fine edges...
We could never afford those things,
But Pappa knew I would never ask,
so looking was okay.
And now Love has found me
tucked away, insulated
tightly wrapped
and still not nicked...
And how do I explain to you
that crystal can have wamrth
in it's soul
when all you see
is planes, lines and
cool ice?
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