The rectangle stands
here in Professor Chu's room
a useful maker of space.

It must be wood or stone
and black of neutron star.

Space arises out
of building and working,
even the smallest things,
a wood block,

this something striving
against nothing.

But touch it, lift
and find it hollow
a mass-produced, half-plastic
thing dressed in walnut-
burnt stain.

Out of basalt or ebony,
I'd hew my tree
from a solid block.

© 2004, Amy Hart.