The Brown mug

                          
                                   The Brown Mug


              As I contemplate

              The brown mug,
,,
               That I made some

                Sixty years ago,

               I feel vertigo -

               Stare dizzily

               Over life's panorama -




               How times' topography

               Has deceived us -

               By its slow increments,

              Time has made 

              A seamless passage,

             Towards today.

             Places people, family-

              Rainbow bubbles

             That hold us, then break -




              And yet I remember

              As a young man,

              Centering the clay

              On the spinning wheel -

              Feel my fingers forming

              The sides of the brown mug.