Bent and mottled with
Hammer-blows, lines of
Earthy ink cross a page
In a volume bound
By sinew. Broken lines tie
Memory to present stringing
Meaning along a thread
Until time comes to demand
Another line be threaded into
The fell, and an assessment
Given. The pings of hammer’s-head on
Sheeting resounds within and
Tiny troughs merge into
A curved line, once a plane
Now molded, drizzled in patina
Beaming plasticity and yet
Made of air and relationships.