Terra Cotta
Naples perches in its own white washed stucco
Brilliant white. It almost hurts the eyes.
An irregular pitch of cliffs subsumed into terra cotta tiles
Orangish-red like scales of some headless fish
Arising from a rocky classic shore.
This, like the first Ulyssess would see of dear Penelope.
Her would-be suitors frothing like a sea.
These roofing tiles, the faithful terra cotta hue.
Not like the terra cotta Chinese warriors
Who, though sculpted in a terra cotta clay,
Stand immobile in a ghostly mummy dust.
Colors have more to do with light
Than material with which a thing is made.
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