for old times sake

By Antonio Machado

“Proverbios y cantares XXIX” from Campos de Castilla.

Caminante, son tus huellas
el camino y nada más;
Caminante, no hay camino,
se hace camino al andar.
Al andar se hace el camino,
y al volver la vista atrás
se ve la senda que nunca
se ha de volver a pisar.
Caminante no hay camino
sino estelas en la mar

walls so soft

9:00 am every Saturday
all of us gather at the studio
heedless of sunny California outside

broad shouldered and handsome
he walks through the door

and while the rest of us make teapots with floral designs:

he
makes
ART!

what a talent!
the potters whispered
what magnificent arms!
the old women cooed –
daydreaming of lovers decades past
as their once pink and plastic nails push into the plastic clay
tearing through soft walls

he would be more interested
in leering at their feeble doily designs
as he carved mountains
out of feldspar and sediment
magnificent treetops grow from his arms
those unexpected arms
to which were attached hands you knew would get
to work! as soon as he rolls up his sleeves
spectators crowded around to watch those triceps twitch
effortlessly

his art is subtle
he creeps like elk

across the wedging board
he smiles at me