I often mold blessed thought of you, mix it
with kaolinite, shape sensual form
as I recall your posture, affix it
with my seal (heart-shaped right thumbprint the norm).
I first-fire your green body to burn off
the binder, sinter to fuse particles
as one. I study your glaze: each turn of
your slight figure—graceful pirouette—fills
my studio with light. I enfold you,
carry you into the night, reveling
in your organic glow. What untold views
we provide the stars—your gleam beveling
powerful dark into fading shadow;
my pose recalling Homer as I bow.
Roger Armbrust
March 27,
2013
