Grown onto every inch of plate, except Where the hinges let it move, were living things, Barnacles, mussels, water weeds—and one Blue bit of polished glass, glued there by time: The origins of art.
ATTRIBUTION:
Howard Moss (b. 1922), U.S. poet. Water Island (l. 16–20). . .
Contemporary American Poets, The; American Poetry since 1940. Mary Strand, ed. (1969) World Publishing Company.
