Lime Green Icicle Tower

Chihuly twisted his glass - HIS glass
the way I wanted to words - MY words

A million dollars, they said, for that one
and this other, a hundred times that
would be too little by half

We sipped, together - him in Tacoma
me in Lowell - a thousand sips 
of something too strong - too Him
to me. 

I said the same nothing I always say
when I stare at God across the street
through a shade on a sunny day

He knew me only as a knob of black glass
shattered on his workroom floor sometime
after the last Chandelier was hung