It is no shame, clay, if you cannot be a vase.
In your terra cotta I can see the face
of a cottage set in the corner of a lot,
surrounded by roses and forget-me-nots,
all snugly wrapped in a whitewashed slatted fence.
It is no shame to trade flash for permanence.
***
This poem is the 22nd in my marathon of poems (plus 3.8) for Tupelo Press’s cool fundraising project 30/30. You can view the poems I and the other “runners” submit every day during the month of March, at
http://tupelopress.wordpress.com/3030-project/.
Please follow our work, and if you find it even the slightest bit entertaining, engaging, thought-provoking, or just generally worthy, donate to Tupelo Press, an independent literary publisher. Sponsor me by entering T. Thibodeaux Baar in the “in honor of” line on the donation form, which you can find here:
https://www.tupelopress.org/donate.php
(Scroll down; it’s a form!)
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