The cracked Raku jar I sent, body of clay, pale as stone, with a blue stain: mirrored the brown earth with its stamp, its footprint, the blue sky stretching like a painter's wash of watercolour, cracked glaze like figured skin - salt wounds, muscles, veins, standing out with effort, running under holding the body together. Packaged, protected, sent down the miles on a wing and a prayer: a wish for both our birth days.next poem