He took a lump of yellow clay and folded it To make it round, And through the inner hollow shaped and molded it Upon the ground. He set it in the sun and watched till it had dried Enough to burn And then, with purging sand, smoothed off each bulging side And crooked turn. He died. They filled his jar with water, set bean-meal Inside his tomb Lest, waking ere his time, the Hunger-beast should steal Through earth's dark womb. Ten thousand years ago or more, his thought took form As now it stands: An Aztec jar upon my table, glowing, warm. From his deft hands. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: EPILOGUE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE WOUNDED CUPID. SONG by ANACREON ON THE NEW FORCES OF CONSCIENCE UNDER THE LONG PARLIAMENT by JOHN MILTON IN SICKNESS (1714) by JONATHAN SWIFT RIDE NOT TOO FAST WITH BEAUTY by ELSIE TWINING ABBOTT |