Response to Jane Hirshfield’s Rebus
“You work with what you are given…
…How can I enter this question the clay has asked?”
Like Jane, I answered the call of the clay
I molded and worked with everything
clay of regret
clay of grief
clay of gratitude
they all called me
when given sugar, I sweetened
given salt, grew salty,
I became my choices
shaped them
escaped one to land with another
That is the thing about clay
it is slippery, treacherous
you need to watch it to make sure
it dries in the shape you left it in
I rushed to mold clay before it dried
year-on-year
I couldn’t part with clay I misshaped
Once dry
clay needs to be broken again
and wetted
to be reshaped
why do I think it is less painful for the clay than for me?
I prefer to break the clay
This is how I answered the question the clay has asked.
Rocked World
You once rocked my world
and then
you rocked my world, leaving it pitted
I am now the moon
All woman
no man here
I long for gravity
Like a Stone
I made myself heavy with gluttony
every stone inside of me is something foreign I swallowed
masquerading
as love, wealth, happiness
I shrieked with need with each hopeful swallow
At least Atlas knew that stones must be carried on shoulders
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