Michelle Kreiner

Like Sculptor’s Clay

Like sculptor’s clay

I can transform

Like darkening clouds

in a vicious storm

Like Calder’s circus

wound up tight

Like many artists

I prefer natural light

I am a star in Van Gogh’s sky

looking out into the night

I am the middle of Orion’s belt

shimmering, sparkling bright

Like watercolors

I run and bleed

Like poverty

I starve and need

Like a Degas dancer

I balance on one

Like time to Dali

I melt in the sun

I am a lily pad in Monet’s pond

floating through still water

I am the bridge connecting

Mothers and daughters

I shine, I seep

I whine, I weep

I gather, I split

I win, I quit

I love, I mother

I reveal, I cover

Sometimes vulnerable and weak

But always a Pollock painting:

Textured, layered, unique.