The Sculptor

By: Mariam Khelashvili

The sculptor unveiled a block

A block of marble bought with the

Cents, dollars, kept under lock

Kept under a lock and key.


The sculptor went home again

while rain and lightning poured from skies

Stepped upon the midnight train,

a hat over his tired eyes.


The sculptor soon fell asleep

And, strangely, he somehow dreamed

his sister, with her eyes so deep

brown, somehow appeared to him.


The sculptor, at work once more

Made, with skill, two shining eyes,

With a head so deftly formed

It seemed to touch it was unwise.


The sculptor soon dreamed anew

About his father in the south

He whispered, “know I love you”

And his son chiseled his mouth.


And so he went, from day to day

Adding on through foul or fair

Carving what was in his way…

Sculpting the body of his care.


The sculptor unveiled a man

A soul of marble made with the

Thoughts and dreams kept under lock

Kept under a lock and key.