Throwing Clay

Spent in emptiness, cyclone survivor,
Fallen unconscious, remember yourself,
Dancing field and plow, sickle and grain,
Acres of sorrows sown, too soon harvested,
My labor wasted, neglect for a prize.

I must remake my spirit, well past due,
Bid goodbye to the iridescent ox,
Fold close these golden wings one last time,
The extremities blended to the core,
Only surface tension and gravity left.

Fresh hatched, staring, scaled, and smooth,
Patient great wurm, silent serpent waiting,
Deadly ambush in these still dark waters,
Assassin’s fangs bearing eldritch venom,
Poison, constricting, consumption to come.