What happened is, we grew lonely
living among the things,
so we gave the clock a face,
the chair a back,
the table four stout legs
which will never suffer fatigue.

We fitted our shoes with tongues
as smooth as our own
and hung tongues inside bells
so we could listen
to their emotional language,

and because we loved graceful profiles
the pitcher received a lip,
the bottle a long, slender neck.

Even what was beyond us
was recast in our image;
we gave the country a heart,
the storm an eye,
the cave a mouth
so we could pass into safety.

~ by Lisel Mueller
from Alive Together: New and Selected Poems



J Cosmo Newbery said...

Interesting perspective but most certainly true.

Gary's third pottery blog said...

I read what Grit in the gears said about selling his wheel and what it means (not sure yet what to say about that to him) and then there is this of yours with the pitcher and I was cleaning my studio today of old crap... SPRING. Renewal, with the emphasis on new... :)

red dirt girl said...

Gary!! Renewal is a good word for March. We live amongst things, amass things, toss things out .... in the end it is all about relationships. :(( he sold his wheel. :)) he's keeping his father's stamp collection! Crazy isn't it? The whole shebang is simply crazy.

I'm looking forward to charting unknown territory with Soub.


red dirt girl said...

Cosmo, I liked the perspective of the poem also. We humans do anthropomorphism very well. I wonder if 'things' hate us for casting them in our own image or laugh at us for our foolish notions ?? And apparently things - the tossing out of them or the holding onto them - seem to be the theme of March.

Better than the 'kill me now' darkness of February, right ???


soubriquet said...

I am inundated with a plethora of surfeit.


Lee said...

That certainly is a different way of looking at things.

red dirt girl said...

You are overwhelmed with an excess of excess ??

I hear you.

Preparing emergency life preserver as I type ...


red dirt girl said...

Lee, I used to think Cosmo was the master of the pun. I do believe you are its mistress!!