BITTERS AND THE GRAIN OF SALT

   by Bates Corlieu

beads of love, beads of loss
when the beads have all dried up
its the jagged crystal left
that cuts parched cheek
that shaves chapped chin
that sculpts a little bowl of silence
and molds another tiny trinket
shaped like a person or a pet
to dangle helplessly among
the golden girls and silver horses
pewter kittens and platinum dogs
turquoise turtles and pearly doves
all strung and crowded on together
with just one perfect copper cowboy
and a boot, and a hat, and a horseshoe too
turned up for luck
even on your charmed life’s bracelet