Edwin Arce II, a jeweler specializing in rare metals and gems, has recently returned to his business and home in Binghamton NY from a year-long sabbatical in Seville, Spain, where he studied the elegant art of bullfighting. Says Edwin: “It was my dream to bring the beauty of the bullfight somehow back to Binghamton … I’m still thinking of ways in which to do that.” Maybe through his poems? OK, wait. Stop. The only part of that which is true is the part about Edwin living in Binghamton. I totally made up the rest of it, quote and all. Edwin didn’t send me a bio … see what happens when writers leave those things to me? 
Regardless, I do believe he could write an amazing poem about bullfighting and I hope he takes that challenge and runs with it. This poem here seems to beg for a follow-up, don’t you think?
One Ring
Regardless, I do believe he could write an amazing poem about bullfighting and I hope he takes that challenge and runs with it. This poem here seems to beg for a follow-up, don’t you think?
One RingBy Edwin Arce II
I’m sitting on a small,
Low bridge,
Feet dangling
Inches above slow running water.
I toy with the ring
On my first finger,
Slide it
Over the wrinkles
Of my knuckles.
I want to toss it in,
Watch it settle–
Tapping side-side-side–
Among the water
Smoothed pebbles.
I’ll walk away,
Forget it,
Let it be weather worn
In tides
Moving ocean bodies
And river fingers,
Leave it waiting
For weekend naturalists
Trodding leaves
In mud streaked Nikes
Spotting glinting silver
Against stone grays,
Placing that ten dollar
Junk metal
Over their finger
Like a grace from Tolkien,
Waiting for power,
Imagining Indians
Over a fire,
A ring wrought
And shaped with
Chipped rocks swung,
The power of ancient
Incantation soaking
Through this adornment,
And so great
Is the treasure
They will hold it
Against all others.
