This poem was published in Dreich, December 2022

Inherited Jug Barbara Usher
Stoneware jug, milky blue
shoulders, pale as low-sun heavens,
melding into beige natural hues.
A bulbous belly with relief map impressions
of earthy contours. Glaze-run stain
shaped suitably like a uterus
– or a ram’s head – beautiful
to touch in its smoothness.
A song from the dead
longs to awaken in us.
Yet can the same ideal of beauty
yield such different truths?
Clay absorbs toxins, re-awakens love,
replays memories of kindness, of youth.