Ode

The urn is overrated, meant to carry ash
Or flowers, or perhaps just air.
I wager the urn’s admirers scarcely care,
And for the owner, would be a push.
Had I a brush to paint or stroke,
I think a creature in its wrinkled way
Would be more interesting than clay
And appeal to more varied folk.
Fur is too kind and soft, I think,
While needles offer an offending pinch.
A nice accord would be just flesh
In brown or red or black or pink.
Though nakedness is exacting to create,
A simple jar of clay is simply dead.
A naked subject may be out of date,
But no urn made an artist lose his head.

EJR