Northwords Now

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Pots Still

by Lydia Harris

Some are thumb-sized
tempered with shell,
buried close to the dead.
Others a baby might bathe in.

Zig-zagged pots,
pots with cavetto zones,
cordons applied,
herringbone incised.

Some have lugs and rims.

All are fired,
fusing the particles
almost waterproof.

3000 years ago they were clay.

Grooved Ware
As PrayerPoem by Lydia Harris
'Energy is an attribute of objects'Poem by Lydia Harris
Folk Tapped PotsPoem by Lydia Harris
How I know youPoem by Lydia Harris
Pots StillPoem by Lydia Harris
She that will have a pot out of the clayPoem by Lydia Harris
The Words of the Pot to the SwallowPoem by Lydia Harris
Tracing the Lines Exhibition Tankerness House Poem by Lydia Harris

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