After you have scraped
a crust of dried old clay
from the opened end
of the clay extruder
an umber river flows.

You score the top
of a clay vessel,
mist it with water,
brush it with slip.

You finger the river's course,
into ghylls, down dales,
through valleys,

seal with a thumb
to its new source,

look at the luting,
brush in more slip,
press a clay crumb
into a tiny gap,
smooth with a sponge,

look again,
first with your eyes,
and then with another eye–
squinting for salt.