Four Corners

Sheri Fresonke Harper
Incredibly hot, my fists clenched
corralled here
not allowed beer
and another damn Tourist
won't make up mind.

Wants to see, touch,
'experience' enchantment.
Just one big pain in the ass
for me. How the elders take it,
take intrusion, never say a word

just show the goods, take the cash
I don't know. I shove away
then stop, turn back,
want to smash fist, instead cup hand.
Lean over, explain.

This is my sister's work
she's only twelve, spends
hours every day, hands in the land's clay
forming, squashing, at potter's wheel.
Learns our old ways.

Until her neck bends and back aches.
Until this perfect seed pot is made.
She plans out prayers
for rain, sun, health.
Loses them in runes on top.

Published by Sheri Fresonke Harper

Sheri works as a freelance writer, novelist and poet. She worked in the aviation industry at the Port of Seattle and Boeing Company for 20 years as a systems analyst/architect where she edited and wrote over...  View profile

15 Comments

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  • Bat Canary7/1/2009

    This is just wonderful and very touching. Very sympathetic characterization. Great!

  • Shirley Mandel6/27/2009

    Deep poem. Good insight.

  • Cherie Bowser6/23/2009

    Great poem!

  • Branwen666/22/2009

    You are such a gifted poet!

  • Lyn McCallister6/22/2009

    Powerful!

  • Dan Reveal6/22/2009

    This is one of my very favorites of yours!! Thanks..:)

  • Amanda Cartwright6/21/2009

    This is one of your best works, Sherri.

  • Sherri Thornhill6/20/2009

    That was terrific!

  • Susan S6/20/2009

    You get those feeling out girl.

  • Roberta Baxter6/19/2009

    Words say many messages in this one piece. Thank you!

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