Claybell

This rendered clay

of bell and clapper

hangs faintly blued

by canvas in the heat:

a dome and a tongue,

silent.

The lake of its body

ripples like a river

in the light

and all the unearthly wideness

of the cloth above it

settles in its stillness.

Its voice pools up

and laps the water from

the small of my back,

a dog thirsty for touch,

a sky.

--lks 2007

©Laura Sorrells 2007

all rights reserved