by Tina Rubin

Still life in glass on my altar.
Ice sculpture
not melted not solid
like the glacier we stood upon,
cracked.
A gulf yawns between us.
A polar bear on my altar —
testimony that you existed.
You bought a blue one on the ship
and your enthusiasm was contagious.
I bought its white twin.
We searched Seattle in the rain for wine,
Two near teetotalers out of bounds.
Now that liquid shimmers in bronze glass on my altar,
trapped for eternity— or until I release it.
Is it that way for you, too?

A journalist, novelist, and poetry-dabbler, Tina Rubin is the editorial director of the literary travel journal www.TravelbytheBooks.com and teaches the Orchard Writing Workshops. Her writing has recently appeared in Better Nutrition magazine and Annotation Nation; two economic development books she authored are slated for publication in 2010.