In the Glassblower's Cottage A ship’s lantern, shaped from the dream of autumn, Overlooks a white and silver waterfall we would drink from If we could. Splinters of moonlight Splash over a herd of horses grazing In a field of ice. There is a gazelle Poised above a pond in the middle of a garden, And there are the spinning arms of galaxies Where heat’s heartbeats measure everything. The world changes but what remains is ours To keep or give away like the strings of rain falling From the ceiling’s shore or the letters we wrote worn thin As sea stones washed up against a forest of stars, Or the gleaming arms of a glass tree, All made, like us, from water and breath and fire. for Craig
—Submitted on 09/25/2022
The poems of Thomas Brush first appeared in Poetry Northwest in 1970. He has received creative writing grants from the NEA, Washington State Arts Commission, and Artist Trust. His most recently books, from Lynx House Press, are God’s Laughter (2018), Open Heart (2015), and Last Night, winner of the Blue Lynx Prize (2012).
Editor’s Note: The series title Flush Left refers to the fact that, due to our limited WordPress skills, we are only considering poems that are flush left.