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( and from 1976 …..)

Of the Wheel


I am trying to become a potter,

a shaper, a molder,

a creator,

And at the same time am

shaping myself.

I am rough, uncentered,

I must be rewedged.

The clay turns round and round

beneath my fingers,

it is my fetus,

has been mined from my womb.

Rise and fill my with pride, Child.

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