Poet & Thief

Iron  Fe, 26

It is in the pan we use to fry
the bacon that rouses you.

It is in the hook (and the wrench)
you pry from the fish’s mouth.

It is the nail pounded into the wall,
in the wire attached

to the painting hung above
the bed, & in the blood that travels

you, travels faster
when there is lightning, coming thunder.

It colors your world:
rust, cedar, water, needle.

& reminds you of longing
the sound of rain falling on tin.

Love like iron finds is strongest
fused and flexible

and hammered
into shape.


One thought on “Poet & Thief

  1. Gold is for the mistress — silver for the maid —
    Copper for the craftsman cunning at his trade.”
    “Good!” said the Baron, sitting in his hall,
    “But Iron — Cold Iron — is master of them all.”

    Rudyard Kipling

    Enjoying your new venture…. Good work.


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