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Spadina Literary Review  —  edition 40 page 10

verse

Fired Clay

by Ajanta Paul

When you are
In a kiln
Under heat and pressure

The strains and stresses
Begin to show
And cracks appear.

Like fired clay
You vitrify
Into a polished smoothness.

All admire
The gleaming finish,
The texture rare,

How you are remade
From raw mud
To sparkling glass.

What they don't see
Is your agony
In the furnace of eternity.