Clay Laden Fingers

Palmed Mud

Spirit Lingers

Through Vessel’s Stud

Within Dark Womb

Breathing Signs

Silent Tomb

A Whisper Cries

The Argil Alive: To the Potter Naive:

“Though Fashioned Me; In Ignorant Glee

Soon an Unheard Plea

Till I Mold Thee”

Moan into Loam!

Silence Respire

Sandy Foam

We Retire!