Office Hours
2 days ago
1 min read
By M.B. McLatchey
This morning, through his eyes, a woman rises
from stone. A replica perched on my bookshelf -
the Venus de Milo. Her torso turns in a spiral
finely carved. Awakened now in a new flesh tone.
The draped cloth that slips from her hips
no longer hides her form but worships it.
Office hours. Or perhaps an ancient apprenticeship.
A tutorial for the long, dull ache of youth,
for the solitude of self-invention,
awkward uncertainties. I watch him watch
the sculptor trace her hour-glass shape.
The ratios. The calculated shifting of her weight.
The curve of her waist the meeting place
of reason and a dreamed-of grace.
A rapt meditation that softens his face.
As if his mind has quieted, opened to new reveals
under the sculptor's sponge and cloth. A shift
so personal I want to step away - or kneel.
Despite the voices in the hall,
despite the need for stillness,
I keep my door open.
M.B. McLatchey is the author of six books, including the award-winning The Lame God (Utah State University Press), Smiling at the Executioner (Kelsay Books) and Beginner's Mind (Regal House). Her work has received multiple honors, including the American Poet Prize from the American Poetry Journal. She served for ten years as Poet Laureate of Volusia County, Florida; currently serves on the editorial staff as a Reader for the poetry journal SWWIM; and teaches at Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University. Find her at: www.mbmclatchey.com
