Rough to the touch

Round from the base

Built by hand

On a hand spun wheel

A clay jug

Earth ware miracle

Handles and none

Lid or without

A collector of water from the source

The communal fountain

Keeping it cool

Sweating impurity

Untouched by high temperature outside

A natural cooler

Some taller then other

And yet taller than all

Still working as one

Of clay filtering impurity

With minuscule holes to stop

Any extraneous penetration

At its top

Allowing us to reach and draw

A quenching sip of just cool water

A perfection of gone simple world

Without electrical gadgetries

The eccentricity of

Simplicity of earth and water