Speaking of clay

Breathing clay.
Not on his own.
Walks off the wheel.
The master reproduces the design.
Adding colors, feathers and limbs.

The black hummingbirds are wise.
Living among their enemy.
Too fast for him to catch
They'll have to settle for the ignorant instead.

The clay moves mimicking his surroundings.
Speaking, walking, standing.
The ground now under his feet.