Bolton Landing
Michael Armstrong
for David SmithYour cigarette smouldering down
A burning scroll wedged tight
Between those weathered fingers
Wounded and darkThe anvil warm, its ring
Forever in your ears
A constant reminder of why
You live, it singsYour love is a reflection of light
Across the face of a hard mistress
Born of the earth, furnace formed
Made divinePrometheus in work clothes firing a
Baptism at the blacksmith's forge
Illumination of the snow, flatcar dream
The welder's arc, your magnetic northIn the fields of May you stopped to
RestThe 2River View, 2_2 (Winter 1997)