RiverJordan

Clay Man

Unscathed,

smoldered into a mold,

such a fine plaything,

felt by the hands of many,

crackled skin-shiny touch,

playing in the mud/ gazing at the sun,

the heat grows dominant,

slowly burning to a pulp,

still they play,

tug and rough, 

pulling limbs/ scratching up,

the day becomes sweltering,

inanimate and hampered with,

the toy is deserted-melted to a droop.