Translucent Against The Light
In parallel spaces
how deftly these fingers work.
The rougher fingers;
those accustomed
to the pad of a thumb
imprinting on a soft body of clay,
or the rolled-palm kneading
of unrisen dough.
How diligent,
these fingers,
decanting new alchemy into moulds –
see here:
biscuit, uncovered,
anticipating the glaze.
And here:
these fragile jellies,
glass-like and uncanny,
mirrored in blue and white –
each creation more ornate than the last,
ever daintier
and refined,
and how tactile,
this balance.
How invisible the fingerprints
in these opulent delicacies,
as upstairs,
porcelain fingers pinch
tiny handles
like the small bones of birds.
Extravagant and unbridled,
and translucent against the light.
By Emily Galvin-Wilson
Emily Galvin-Wilson is the youngest and first female Staffordshire Poet Laureate (2017-2019) and first Poet in Residence for Lichfield Library (2019-2021). She has produced commissioned poems for The National Trust, BBC Radio, Staffordshire County Council and Birmingham Chamber of Commerce, and worked closely with organisations such as Lichfield Cathedral, World of Wedgwood and Middleport Pottery in curating poetry events and workshops.