By Pavel Chichikov
‘Clever, do you think?' the farrier said
He held the salamander high and then
Passed his hand above the gold rosettes –
It grew, expanded, glowed into a sun
Lifted in the air – it was the star
That rises in the dawn, and then projects
The shadows of the evening deep and far
Across the meadows and sleeping groves
And all about us grew inside this room
An atmosphere of purest blue, the chrome
Of yellow sunshine touched and made us warm –
No living dead or ghouls could do us harm
But then it faded, fell away, a spark,
A wreath of smoke, then darkness in the dark –
The room returned to vision as did we –
The farrier, the faithful boy, and me
‘Good fellow, Robin,' said the clever smith,
‘I wouldn't take that flower as a gift –
Keep it on your jacket, keep it safe
It's not the worst of teachers for waif'
‘Go with God -' ‘The gelding?' I inquired –
He laughed and said: ‘ It's kept for the inspired,
And you, at least for now could never keep
Your seat – you'd better travel on your feet'
The shadows parted, showing us the door
The dreadful street outside, the smoke of war,
The rubble and the devastation, such
A dismal, squalid vista was too much
For us to contemplate – I nearly turned,
But then he spoke with Robin: ‘Boy, you learn
Right quick – the flower's for your needs
So keep it safe and follow where it leads'
‘I ve got to find my sister, will it show –?'
‘Sometimes it will whisper, sometimes grow
And twist in the direction where she's gone –
Listen to the flower – now go on'
The Shoulder of the Sun Part Eighteen will be featured Monday.
Photo: Pavel Chichikov
To visit Pavel Chichikov's website click *here*
