How to Polish a Petoskey and Other Poems
by Sarah Steele
HOW TO POLISH A PETOSKEY (OR OTHERWISE, A POEM)
Go out hunting (or walk aimlessly),
and fill with delight when you stumble
upon a gray patterned rock. Pick it up.
Hold the stone in your hands. Feel its
rough edges, notice streaking scratches.
Use a file until it is rounded, but not yet smooth.
Wet the stone—spit or tears will do. Apply grit and
a steady, circular motion. Gently now.
Consistent, firm pressure is all that is required.
Once your bowl is filled, dump it out—
cloudy liquid never made designs clearer.
Pour fresh water, and rinse the stone again.
Caress your specimen with cloth until
it is dry. Examine it for deeper defects.
Increase your grit strength.
Rinse,
dry,
sand,
repeat.
You must do this many times.
But not too many times.
And all this must be done by hand. If you
automate the process (or belabor it too long),
the stone will disintegrate into its gravelly parts,
and you will never find its wholeness again.
CITY COFFEE SHOP MUSINGS
He was there—
in the grandeur of buildings, reaching for sky,
in the stillness of the dragonfly, waiting in breeze,
in the ingenuity of vehicles, transporting in style,
in the persistence of grass, poking through concrete,
in the freshness of the market, nourishing the body—
He was there.
THE MOST BEAUTIFUL THING
The most beautiful thing
I’ve ever seen
was a naked tree
with nothing on
but frost and snow.