Forty One Pots

John Rodzvilla

Her days were free and unconfined,
but she fled and left behind her clay
entombed within forty one pots.

In the thirtieth are the bones of the
Suffolk Fool. We called her Dicky
Pearce, but that was not her name.

Wit and mirth are scarce.
Wit and mirth are dead.

                         by & by.