Today it is a swan:
                     The guide tells us
 these are in demand.
                     The glass is made

of red lead and potash                    
                     and the smashed bits
of crystal sinews
                     and decanter stoppers

crated over there—
                     she points—and shattered
on the stone wheel
                     rimmed with emery.

Aromas of stone and
                     fire. Deranged singing
from the grindstone,
                     and behind that

a mirror—my
                     daughters’ heads turned
away in it—garnering
                    grindstone and fire.