mmWritten by

The Potter Man.

Breadman's Daughter| Views: 63

Hey Toby,

Remember me

And when

We first met

It’s been

A lifetime or two

Since then

Memories recede

For some

But I

Remember you

Vividly

 

It was the

Summer of ‘74

Nixon

Watergate

Impeachment

Background noise

Band on the Run

 

You were the Assistant

To the Fine Arts Prof

On secondment

From U of W to LU

To teach Pottery 101

 

You were

Oh so fine

Luscious

Like wet clay

Spun on a

Potter’s wheel

Your hands

Were clever

Artistic

Manipulating

 

I admired the Prof

Her technique

Rare

Skillful

Precise

Well turned

 

But I was

Seduced

By your approach

Unrefined

And raw

Rough edges

 

You traveled

With Laika

Your yellow dog

Named after the one

The Russians

Launched into Space

On Sputnik 2

 

And you drove

A white camper van

That I knew

Intimately

Where I think

I might have

Fallen in love

 

I’m not sure

 

The summer

Was fleeting

Not long enough

To grow

The affairs

Of the heart

 

When you left

You gave me

A teapot

You made

With those gorgeous

Articulate hands

And I made you

A hippie shirt

That I embroidered

With my hands

Because

You admired

The one I wore

That summer

 

All these years

Stacked

Like books

On the shelf

Of time

The attachment

Still lingers in

The light places

Of my mind

Whenever

I see

A yellow dog

A white van

A clay teapot

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