The heft of cool clay
Against stainless steel wheel
Etched with concentric circles.
Center.
Crooked, imbalanced
Like the bent rim
From a childhood bicycle
It thumps with
Centrifugal petulance
Against cupped and pressing
Hands slouched over the work
Muscling into form
As the whirl of the wheel quickens
and flings droplets like chocolate milk.
Thumbs digging in
Dirty fingers and
Knuckles caked with mud
Shapes up and yields
To fine form.
Until a final pull
When the clay bucks and finds its own way.
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Tags: art · child development · poem · potteryNo Comments
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