into potholes made by ceramic pots

falling creating such a wonderful aspect

of a potterfall, when five quolls

took a turn 4 of them

shaping gargoyle pots from wet clay 

that clung in lumps all over 

Grognpockle’s face, for she had forgotten

to take things slowly as memories

 

 

of jungle races made her chase

round and round the lemon tree