“Now at the turn of the year this coil of clay
Bites its own tail: a New Year starts to choke
On the old one's ragged end. I bite my tongue
As the end of me--of my rope of stuff and nonsense
(The nonsense held, it was the stuff that broke),
Of bones and light, of levity and crime,
Of reddish clay and hope--still bides its time.’’
— From “The Mad Potter,’’ by John Hollander (1929-2013), a celebrated poet, critic and Yale professor. He served as Connecticut’s poet laureate. He lived in Woodbrige.
Below Wepawaug Falls, in Woodbridge
