Lyric

The plant is gone

But the clay stays warm

A pale line circles

Where the roots once turned

I brush the inside

With the edge of my sleeve

But some quiet shapes

Will not leave

A ring of old soil

Sleeps under the rim

A mineral trace

Where the water thinned

The shelf looks wider

Than it did before

But the empty pot

Still knows its form

Some marks are not damage

Some hollows still hold

The shape of a growing

No longer at home

The Pot Remembers

The curve I left inside

Not every trace

Is asking to be revived

I can touch the clay

And not return

Some places keep us

After we learn

The new pot waits

By the window glass

With loosened soil

And a wider path

I carry nothing

But what roots know

How to leave a circle

And still grow

Some rooms keep a shadow

Some vessels keep rain

But keeping a shape

Is not the same

The Pot Remembers

The curve I left inside

Not every trace

Is asking to be revived

I can touch the clay

And not return

Some places keep us

After we learn

Not every leaving

Empties the room

Not every outline

Turns into a wound

The Pot Remembers

And I let it be kind

A hollow can hold

Without pulling me inside

I was not lost there

I was not wrong

I only grew there

Then moved on

I set it back

On the lower shelf

Not as a home

Not as myself

The clay stays quiet

The new soil breathes

What kept my shape

Does not keep me