Chalk by Gary Grossman

I found a used piece of chalk in
The mustard yellow--green box
Tucked in the bottom drawer, of
My walnut office desk. It was chilly
As a northern wind, and slick as
A rainy windshield. Rolling it back
And forth between my fingers I
Remembered the power of circles.
The rollers that move blocks of granite.
Our arteries circulating blood at
Such high pressure. Tree trunks pulling
Life from soil and crumpled leaves.

A shape without corners hides nothing
And surprises everyone.

---

Gary is a Professor of Fisheries at the University of Georgia, whose poetry has appeared in numerous poetry reviews including Verse-Virtual. For 10 years Gary wrote the “Ask Dr. Trout” column for American Angler Magazine. Hobbies include running, fishing, gardening and cooking. Bio and writing at garygrossman.net and https://garydavidgrossman.medium.com/ respectively.