Pens, Brushes, Action

 

Instead of molding the mob into snowflakes,

the fingers of art's work gloves pack

the clumps of mud into towers.

The painter and poet in hermitages send

 

intricate messages about salvation

in sand castles. Even the musician, flexing

his knuckles in a hall's ear, trills the nerves

that sail silence's ocean to islands.

 

But between life and leather the blueprint's

dream of three-dimensional heaven,

loses the riveters and crane operators

shaping the bulwark and the drawbridge.

 

The mountain of dirt dries within the kiln

while plot and pail glaze confusion's edifice.

 

Rich Murphy