Alice carrying a sculpture of pregnant African women in a circle, dancing.

Necks of Clay
©2013 by Alice Walker

Someone said to me:

Oh, stop that!  He has feet

of clay.

This person’s clay

went to the neck.

Can we listen to imperfect

humans?

I’ve always preferred them

myself.

Does this make us mad?

Can we hear our own

small voices

muffled by

the mud

of being:

pleading

for release?

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