This Poem was Submitted By: Mason D. Kelsey On Date: 2001-05-06 03:24:33 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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A Potter’s Wife

When her husband was still an ode she sewed his black buttons back  on but she did not think it odd. When she first kissed her lover she did not understand why rude Twisting felt like wet, slippery clay. Soon enough she felt it as a road. It was the same when she conceived, Adding a drop each day to her cup. she grew with pain as a pot deceived with new wine and heavy, drops, shattering into wet shards.  Feeling need,  longing stir in her breasts knowing  only later it was not for the child’s bead, nor for the wheel, clay, or the clod. But, one quiet cold evening, led alone, for all had left long before, she stared out from an empty bed, knowing for who all this beauty was, accepted it completely with a nod. March 2001

Copyright © May 2001 Mason D. Kelsey

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