Still Lovely
Sep 6, 2018 · 1 min read

I found a clay pitcher packed away
Confined by fools as a lesser vessel.
Yellowed paper crinkles with dusty bouquet
And what at first sight is dull and grey
When held in my hands and judged less
Reveals gentle colors lovely in their usefulness.
Faded glaze threaded with fine lines,
Imperfections seen in harsh sunlight
When softened at forgiving dusk,
Are gone and not brought to sight.
My fingers snag a handle chipped and scarred
I feel the rounded rim smoothed down…


