Poet Potter
June 9, 2019 | Carolyn Wilker
words are
jumbled cells of clay
in the poet potter’s hand
the wheel spins round and round
mere clay in the potter’s hands
mere words in the poet’s mind
the neck wobbles collapses
sinks to the bottom
the potter remodels
words spin
taking a shape of their own
till the finished piece is ready
for the fire
of the editor’s kiln
Beautiful. I like the essential metaphor of words as slippery clay that needs to be moulded, until eventually allowed to solidify.