July 2015
I am an English professor at a two-year college where I teach writing (creative and expository) and literature. My poetry has appeared in a number of small magazines, and I have two poetry chapbooks, That’s the Way the Music Sounds, from Finishing Line Press (2009), and Talking to the Mirror, from The Last Automat Press (2010). In addition to loving poetry, I have written a mystery novel, Shadow Notes, which will be published next spring by Barking Rain Press. I live with another English professor and poet, Dr. Van Hartmann, and would rather be rich than famous. My website: www.laurelpeterson.com
Celadon
Definition from Art Gallery of NSW, January 2015: “full moon dyed with spring water”
Definition from Art Gallery of NSW, January 2015: “full moon dyed with spring water”
Liu Jianhua - Container Series - Installation, 2009
It is the color of Korean pottery,
of your eyes first thing on a winter morning, the sun
shining on the sheets like a glaze of ice;
the color of spring rain,
of the light through the first spring leaves;
it’s the color of late afternoon loneliness,
the color of Vaseline glass—almost.
The bowl on my desk holds pale stones washed
by the celadon Caribbean sea.
Liu Jianhua’s Container Series pours ruby
into celadon—pitchers, bowls, platters,
cups offered up to our consumptive
gaze, as if we were drinking
another life, eating another body,
a demented communion,
the color of love as it ebbs away,
the color of love as it’s given.
©2015 Laurel Peterson
of your eyes first thing on a winter morning, the sun
shining on the sheets like a glaze of ice;
the color of spring rain,
of the light through the first spring leaves;
it’s the color of late afternoon loneliness,
the color of Vaseline glass—almost.
The bowl on my desk holds pale stones washed
by the celadon Caribbean sea.
Liu Jianhua’s Container Series pours ruby
into celadon—pitchers, bowls, platters,
cups offered up to our consumptive
gaze, as if we were drinking
another life, eating another body,
a demented communion,
the color of love as it ebbs away,
the color of love as it’s given.
©2015 Laurel Peterson