sun spun spider's web

potter's wheel

turn turn re

turn moist earth

clay clods cloudy

spin me write a

round, potter's hands

supple swine, calloused clay

she shapes and feels and finely rises

a bowl, an empty cup a jug a

jar, earth clod clay

come, create

come hear fine twisted potted fingers

spin me right right

round

let us entwine and shape 

and get lost in

creation's 

play.