By Pavel Chichikov
‘A flower's in your coat' observed the smith.
We both had finished jumping at the crack
And dazzle of the detonating nail
He'd spat against the floor. ‘I'll give you back
A treasure for the flower on your coat –
It's yours, I guess, a real one, not a fake?'
Robin stood away and touched the bloom.
‘Salamander gold – a fire drake?'
The smith went on, while peering at the bloom.
He turned and clutched a rope above a fire
Pulled and pulled again and soon a blaze
Ignited in a furnace then leapt higher
He rummaged in his coat, removed some dust
Threw it in the flame and pulled some more –
The red and yellow changed, became a rust
Then white and black – the fire lost its color
Heat increased, we hurried to withdraw
Against the wall of hay, we were afraid
The straw itself would smoke and then ignite –
‘Relax,' he said, ‘we'll look, and then we'll trade'
He thrust his sooty hand inside the flames
Then held it out – the palm unsmutted still –
A beast I'd never seen before lay there
Grey and smoking from the crucible
He knocked the ash away, revealing black,
And then along the sides of it we saw
Blossoms as if made with golden lac
Or powdered gold had sprayed out from a straw
‘That's for you my boy'. He held it out
So Robin could inspect the artful beast.
‘A magic salamander for a pet –
It's worth a little flower, at the least.'
The salamander twisted in the air
But Robin backed away and shook his head –
‘I have to find my sister, now or never –
Your salamander's handsome, but too clever.'
The Shoulder of the Sun Part Seventeen will be featured tomorrow.
Photo: Pavel Chichikov
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