Friday, November 15, 2013

The potter

The frozen tracks
Leave erratic trails
In the ruined snow
Like a dog chasing
Its own tail going
Nowhere & every
Where & all at the
Same time unlike
In size & shape
Some blurred in
Haste while others
Remain in obvious
Hesitation maybe
Tomorrow’s snow
Will melt revealing
Muddied prints of
An unconscious
Routine malleable
As a fortnight’s
Dream awaiting
Only the firing of
Summer

KE

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