(For Sarah Son)
Silk is as cool as teak is slim
As shine is bite and light is Fire
And hung on a frame to wonder at
Trail in the way that panel grain
Plain in relief as a solid could
Pass for fluid in the
Nap of wood
Like flowing hair even if right
May seem hard though soft as musk
Alters by don’t of sudden mood
The way by day a slant of rain
Changes angles by dark of night
As sizes largely with shape conspire
Like silver dawn to somber dusk.
Solid and liquid to each aspire
As teak is cool as shine is bite
And light is slim as silk is fire
