Sarah Nix is a writer and artist living in Cincinnati, Ohio. She received a BFA in 2006 from Herron School of Art and Design. Her poetry has appeared in CALYX Journal, DIALOGIST, Rust + Moth, and Sugared Water. Her blog is sarahonpaper.blogspot.com.
The Easel
Where paint
dripped
where his brush
missed the canvas
or color
rubbed off the edges
where each
of his pictures
left its mark
Museum Pieces
Cup, Sasanian Period
When he brought its lip
to his lips, he closed his eyes.
He could not see
thousands would come to look
into the void of its mouth.
Egyptian Cuff
For how many years
did it clasp
her wrist like a hand?
Come here.
Don’t leave us with this
emptiness.
Dutch Timepiece, 17th Century
pinned open like a specimen.
Bowl, Song Dynasty
White pedestal,
glass case.
The way we imagine
it held by hands.
The way
it will never be again.
Seascape
This is the dark butterfly of the mountain,
its image rippled in the water.
The rocky coastline softened
by fog.
The instance we knew iridescence:
close-up of the beach, fragments of shells.
And this—taken just before
my hat flew into the wind
and was lost to the ocean.
Let it go. Forget
the rust-bitten signs,
tangles of power lines.
How we framed out the crowds,
the traffic and trash, our quarreling.
This is the mountain. Fog.
My dress in full bloom. Our wind-
posed hair. These are clouds,
trees. This is the sea.