Watercollor on Paper, Laser Print on Tissue
16" x 18"  
 
Poem Text: 
Parent as Potter
 
A parent’s hands, 
as if cupped in prayer,
must hold spinning clay 
with just the right touch. 
 
Too tightly,
and clay fountains
            over the hands 
                        to escape the pressure.
 
Too loosely, 
and  the  clay becomes   a    shapeless       blob. 
Indistinct
Useless 
Flat.
 
You must watch   very closely,
      because your pot  takes shape
   in a blur.
 
Prices are negotiable on original art.