Loving the Potter

Loving she who takes the clay
deep from the mine and looms
great clods into fine porcelain cloth
for lace petal cups; her own delight,
and mine to see her bloom.

This weave of sheer reflective glaze
is tapestry; if fired too long
or cooled to quickly,
the loved up clay is doomed.

Twice fired, twice cooled; timing
and sharing precious sips.
Mistiming,

and I arrange flowers in a cracked vase,
sweep broken tears and china chips
into the basket of my arms.



https://cinderellariver.blogspot.com/2020/08/plutos-vase.html

Platos vase, soul



2009abc