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Column 335

Bonsai at the Potter's Stall

Intro by Ted Kooser
08.21.2011

I’ve always been fas­ci­nat­ed by minia­tures of all kinds, the lit­tle glass ani­mals I played with as a boy, elec­tric trains, doll­hous­es, and I think it’s because I can feel that I’m in com­plete con­trol. Every­thing is right in its place, and I’m the one who put it there. Here’s a poem by Kay Mullen, who lives in Wash­ing­ton, about the art of bonsai.

Bonsai at the Potter's Stall

Under fluorescent light,
aligned on a bench

and table top, oranges
the size of marbles dangle

from trees with glossy
leaves. White trumpets

bloom in tiny clay pots.
Under a firethorn’s twisted

limbs, a three inch monk
holds a cup from which

he appears to drink
the interior life. The potter

prizes his bonsai children
who will never grow up,

never leave home.

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Disclaimer

We do not accept unsolicited submissions

We do not accept unsolicited submissions. American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation (www.poetryfoundation.org), publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. Poem copyright ©2006 by Kay Mullen, and reprinted from her most recent book of poetry, A Long Remembering: Return to Vietnam, FootHills Publishing, 2006, by permission of Kay Mullen and the publisher. Introduction copyright © 2024 by The Poetry Foundation.

Column 336
Column 334