Take a beaker filled with clean water, add salt
Until your water fogs (it’s early yet as he sips
his first coffee thinking “three’s an odd number,
got a foot in both camps”) next apply gentle heat,
Add more salt (chews a dunked biscuit, smells
washing day, fresh baked bread, Grandad in his
coffin) go way past saturation point then turn off
The heat, let the mix cool, see how it stays clear
(staring down at the table top he sees a rhythm
in the grain) wait a moment then tap the glass
Gently (he lay full length ear pressed to the
bedroom carpet itching his face as he hears
muffled anger from downstairs) and a single
Crystal will form seemingly out of nowhere,
(he’s sliding weightless down that twisted
rope ladder to the place where all poems
begin) shatters the beaker (picking up his
pen, he begins…)
Kevin Patrick McCann