Dear Seamus
Dear Seamus,
Searching for some steel truth
I come looking for your mythical creature
Horned and heavy
I am forging-ready
I pass by those rusted tools swaying
Grandfather pendulums wound
By the wind or movement of ghosts
Another spirit here just before
That door into darkness left ajar
No sparks now but swirling dust
Tiny tornadoes of neglect, a craft rejected
Only the footprint of your altar remains
A darker stain where it once stood
And warped wood from weighty work
But circling that anvil’s outline
And leading out the back
Coyote prints, and what is that
A torn off ACME tag
— April Resnick
Anvil, by Harold Ross
Inspired by a friend reading “The Forge” by Seamus Heaney. Thanks Alan.
sometimesihatemycat 
Beautiful poem, April. Seamus would be pleased.