My little daughter made a head of clay
Then tiring of it
Gave the thing away
I put it on the window sill in front
Of my desk, with sky and tree
And moving cloud beyond.
At first I hardly noticed it, at least
A rough and odd-shaped head
That could belong to either man or beast.
But seeing it there both day and night
In changing patterns
Of shadow and light
And travelling with me
In the mind’s reflected eye
On all my mental journeys
This discarded piece of forgotten play
Became mascot and symbol-
Caged in a lump of clay.