Tom Carver

Sara Smollett

February 1996

My life has seen many sculptures,
Though not of marble,
Clay or bronze.
I create, give life to forms,
Yet the life doesn't last.
How unrealistic it is
To have man so preserved
For all eternity.
Who can claim such longevity?
There is no reason to want to.
The ice cannot stay frozen for ever.
The cold is warmed by air,
The life of the sun takes away its chill.
So too has my life been warmed,
I have reached the sun.
Unfrozen, yet preserved by time.
Art melts away into puddles of water,
Shapeless, nothingness.