Itís still life

What a massing! how that cup to cup
and jug to spout
keeps all the ugly business out

that threatens to wreck this ziguratted
turret and all its rich teapotted
mounded domes (turbaned for a kublai khan)

Hold up that hefted handle there!
and is that an orange too? deftly chose
for pyramidal juxtapose?

slipped curves, six shadows
and four make square
and more, the way it sits on air

waiting and pure
solid and sure
willing to share
what is oh so rare

long as these dimensions lie
ranked in rows of light on shade
sweet these wordy musings ply
their warply way so weftly made

just donít let it slip,
twist the cup and the lip.

Poetry by William F. Buford
Copyright © 2004-2007 William F. Buford. All Rights Reserved.