Sunday 8 August 2010

The Way of the Brave

THE WAY OF THE BRAVE
I knew of your visit to the blacksmith
but did not guess the purpose of your purchase
He did a fine job,
mild steel tempered on an ancient anvil,
sharpened until the edge was no more than a micron thick
It was when you almost blinded me
with the sun's rays reflected in its shimmering blade
that I sensed the symbolism of the sword
There wasn't any need for you to speak
There wasn't any use for me to flee
I've left a bloody stain upon its blade
but you can smile
still in the condemned cell,
unafraid,
without the sword with which you murdered me
© GERALD ENGLAND

Composed: Ackworth, 22nd January 1973

Publications

1973 Pennine Platform (UK)
1980 THE RAINBOW AND OTHER POEMS (Heckmondwyke, Fighting Cock Press)
1990 International Poetry Suplemento (USA)

1 comment:

  1. All of her power was borrowed. The blacksmith's skill. The sun's radiation, reflected. Even her smile is fake. No, not fake. What's the word? Unjustified? Maybe. This poem makes me think.

    ReplyDelete