for Jole Bortoli of Art to Heart
She sent us out to the Burren to look
up close – far away, up close – far away
up close at pock-holed rock
far away at the sweep of an ice-weathered mountain
up close at golden lichen.
Back in the studio she gave us clay
and said: make the creature who lives
in the fertile rocks of your imagination.
I made a slow worm with attitude,
a snaky roll of clay with eyes,
furred with threads of yellow and red
like curvy exclamation points.
Then she said:
make this creature’s opposite.
I made a druid, very old, very wise,
burdened with leadership.
The druid fell apart
but the slow worm continues,
shimmying along my window sill,
resplendent with attitude.