Helping First Graders Make Stained-Glass Vases
By Eileen Pettycrew
April 15, 2026
April 15, 2026
The teacher warned me the boy doesn’t listen.
But at the art table, he picked out a jar and curated
the tissue squares—blue, orange, red.
He dipped his brush into the liquid starch
and held it steady, while drops like pale moons
dripped from the bristles.
He didn’t seem to hear the chatter around him
or the scraping of chairs as kids came and went;
he focused on the molding and the glazing.
No puddle around his jar, no clumps of wet tissue
on the floor, no leached color on his fingertips.
But at the art table, he picked out a jar and curated
the tissue squares—blue, orange, red.
He dipped his brush into the liquid starch
and held it steady, while drops like pale moons
dripped from the bristles.
He didn’t seem to hear the chatter around him
or the scraping of chairs as kids came and went;
he focused on the molding and the glazing.
No puddle around his jar, no clumps of wet tissue
on the floor, no leached color on his fingertips.
Later, I found him in a doorway,
staring into a darkened room, as if he were
looking at something not of this world.
When I called him by name, he startled,
and I saw he was blown open, and jeweled—
as if composed of glass and light,
boy of sunrise and sunset, both.
staring into a darkened room, as if he were
looking at something not of this world.
When I called him by name, he startled,
and I saw he was blown open, and jeweled—
as if composed of glass and light,
boy of sunrise and sunset, both.
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Eileen Pettycrew’s poems have been published in New Ohio Review, CALYX Journal, Cave Wall, ONE ART, SWWIM Every Day, The Ekphrastic Review, MacQueen’s Quinterly, West Trade Review, and elsewhere. In 2022 she was one of two runners-up for the Prime Number Magazine Award for Poetry, a finalist for the New Letters Award for Poetry, and a Pushcart Prize nominee. Eileen holds a Master of Fine Arts in Writing from Pacific University and lives in Portland, Oregon.
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Author’s Note:
I couldn’t stop thinking about this boy, and I knew I had to write about him.