A glass half-way full of water. Translucent like the lens on a microscope a child peers through to see, 'The Big Dipper." Frosted with calcium-residue from my hard-water. Half-way full like kid’s playing pool on a hot-summer day. There’s a lite movement in the water. A clear, stable glass allowing light to pass through, allowing it’s flavorless liquid tenant. Oval opening. Ridges cover the base of it. This glass once was inhabited by it’s missing half like an 80 year-old widows iris. There is a reflection of it being projected on my table. Different shades from top-to-bottom due to the shadow from the water. The fill-level of the water line bounces up and down like twins on a trampoline. The top of the glass not filled by water is silver, clear color and the base in white. All the light shining through collects at the bottom and waits patiently for the darkness to set in. This glass could be an antique. Water included, this glass weighs only a few lbs. There are black specs on the exterior lip. There is a water-stain in the lip where the path extended to my lips was once traveled like the shoreline.
I found this exercise to be much more difficult than I anticipated. At first it was easy to spit out a few physical descriptions. But as I got further through the excise I found it a lengthier procedure to provide an adequate representation of my image. Despite its’ difficulty, I feel as though if I were trying to do this before analyzing poetry for 4 weeks it would have been more difficult.
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