Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Soapstone Vase

For these few minutes, pretend
I am your daughter, you my good mother,
rough and grainy against my palm.
I could be small enough
to climb inside.

Though you are whole and perfect
and I am only human,
adopt me. Feel how you grow
warm in my hands.
We are made for each other.


***

3 comments:

Fire Bird said...

lovely - satisfying as the feel of soapstone in the hand


WV - scidger

one who scidges down lanes

Reading the Signs said...

F B, once upon a time there was a plan afoot to write the very first Word Ver Leprechaun dictionary. I still think it's a good idea. I think the WVLs have a poetic impulse :)

belinda whitworth said...

(o)
(Poem read and appreciated when it was first posted, before I knew about this useful symbol)