Still Life

written 12/7/14- I found this in an older journal of poems the other day. it is interesting to see what young Anna was marinating on, 7 years ago now.

I wished at that time to be the blue porcelain teapot.

To be as still as life.

That teapot,

blue echoing its color in a certain shade.

the artist titled it just that, “Still Life of a Teapot”.

Yet to me the blue reflected the foamy aftermath of a dolphins’ breath, on waves coming homeward again and again.

I wished to live in that blue moment.

If only for a moment.

To feel the orange citrus next to my stout,

smelling the fresh nothingness of new paint in still life.

To be as still as life.

A concept conceived from kinetic movement,

Of limbs and muscles

surging all at once towards humanness.

I wished for just one moment

to be as still as life.

If life could be so still,

it would make all hearts stop and beat as one.

To become but a teapot.

To become as still as life.