He bore obsession high, jewel to light,
remarking on the way it refracted reality
(kaleidoscope of tiny, mingled obstructive
pains, and maze of old green bones,
intricately interlaced)
and how cleverly he had made it.
I offered to cut it for sale,
but he insisted it remain
intact.

It was the masterpiece 
of his collection.
It had belonged 
to Queen Anne.

©  Copyright, 2000; Malcolm Beckett