A poem by Mary Jane (“MJ”) Sullivan, Instructor of Visual and Performing Arts (VAPA), which came out of her daily writing during the month of May:
Never Avert Your Eyes
His son Lukas was looking under his father’s workbench
discovered several cardboard boxes
filled with small clay faces.
His father found a simple vocabulary
With thumb and forefinger
He molded thought and feeling
the betrayal of eyes and mouth,
cheeks, temples and chin
Who am I? Who are you?
Familiar: an upturned nose, a downturn mouth
hollow eyes
Familiar: I met you on a plane, at the grocery store
at a traffic light.
bounded by emotions his father catches glimpses that bind us