THE CLAY RESISTS

my fingers --
yet I know she's there, squirming,
slick, warm in my hands.
Thumbs nudge away clay
until her back emerges -- vertebrae soft nubs
rippling along spine to curved neck.

I discover her legs folded,
one tucked into the other,
arms lowered to red lap.
She allows me to add tiny owl
feathers, bits of mother-of-pearl
to her terra cotta hair.

Light dazzles as she turns.
A trickle of diamond dust
leaks from one breast,
burns my palms.

m a r i a n   m c d o n a l d
b a i n b r i d g e   i s l a n d ,   w a s h i n g t o n

margin home | contents | links | reading list | marginalia | contributors | staff | guidelines | kudos | subscriptions | contact us

Want to know about UPDATES and NEW ADDITIONS to MARGIN?
Try our - S P A M L E S S - opt-in subscription
It's absolutely free!

Layout, design & revisions ©1999, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003 Tamara Kaye Sellman, Webmaster
Active home URL: http://www.magical-realism.com
(also: https://www.angelfire.com/wa2/margin/index. html)

COPYRIGHT NOTICE

TERMS OF USE: This site contains copyrighted materials, including but not limited to text and graphics. You may not use, copy, publish, upload, download, post to a bulletin board, include in any weblog or otherwise transmit, distribute or modify any elements of this site in any way, except that you may download one copy of such contents on any single computer for your own personal, non-commercial use, provided you do not alter or remove any copyright, author attribution or other proprietary notices.

Rev'd 2003/04/06