A Poem for My Pugmill

my shoulder and wrists remember
wedging all they could withstand
drove 400 miles with a dozen benjamins 
to buy you secondhand

took practice to get to know you
at first too messy, sticky, or dense
years later your virtue is measured in tons
my gratitude more immense

recycled is better than new
perfectly soft and already round
easy to center, easier to portion
two inches equals one pound

a potter's work can overwhelm
mindful of fatigue and morale
a little help from heavy machinery
my indispensable pal