The Collection

Poetry | Lorelei Bacht

I showed you the jar of sea glass,

all bulbous white and translucent

turquoise, I let you jingle it, listen

to the crystalline song of silicate. 

*

I unwrapped the Blaschka models,

these fragile single-cells, invertebrates.

You barely touched, but called 

them beautiful, meticulous, 

unreproducible. 

* 

I deposited a handful 

of delicate intricacies, 

radiolarians,

under your microscopic gaze. 

You examined, carefully named: 

the globes, frustules of diatoms, 

later exclaimed: 

There is so much to chalk. 

*

The vast majority of life on Earth 

is aquatic.

The above is a fact. 

I listed a few more,

for edification. 

*

The protruding canine of a narwhal:

I lifted curtains to denude

the myth of unicorns, 

which is hollow, 

grows through the lip, and forms 

a left-handed helix spiral. 

*

I fed you ptarmigan, 

thick-billed murre, dovekie, 

blueberries and crowberries,

seaweed and fireweed. 

*

I showed you everything. 

Now, it is your turn.