Poetry Blogs (ash tray)

Vesuvius

Moulded from my own fair hands

At the age of not very old

I still remember the cold, clammy clay

And the satisfying way

It was slice from the workboard

By a length of taut wire

Painted blue and green and red

And glazed with over ardour

So that the glistening sheen

hardened into rivulets

That have the appearance

Of old sneeze

Baked in m...

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