iron-work

and in the cold, barely-light
hours of day my task is
clear before me:  tidy
everything away and make my
steps around the table work,

yesterday, a field of red
partridges, two birds of
prey, endless miles of
Scottish hills dusted with
snow:  beauty

busy head of paper and
clutter;  I envied them a
combined extra fifty years
of father and mother:
how unfair the cards
dealt by other hands to
other purposes

Thor's Day:  may my
hammer fall true
on the anvil of my time

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