THE ANVIL

Posted on April 20, 2014 by | 7 Comments

Back in the barn of my dreams
beneath the debris of lost details
stashed in a stall, I see part

of the anvil where I shaped shoes
for the Tharp’s Peak pair, Bess
and Outlaw—all gone in a haze

of forty years. Rotten halters
and harness leather piled on top,
I thought it was lost or stolen.

But no one loses an anvil.
I trust the dreams hammered there
wear as well as mine.

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7 responses to “THE ANVIL”

  1. amberina | April 20, 2014 at 8:09 am | Reply

    Love this one, John!
    Sophie

    Like

  2. Jane Thorne | April 21, 2014 at 4:18 am | Reply

    I love this John, especially your last verse. A cracker! 🙂

    Like

    • John | April 21, 2014 at 5:44 am | Reply

      Thanks, Jane. Sometimes I think I’m writing Country Western songs with hook lines at the end, but don’t worry about it much. Glad you liked it!

      Like

  3. Charron's Chatter | April 21, 2014 at 11:25 am | Reply

    best: “no one loses an anvil”–so clunkily true it’s as light as air. 🙂

    Like

  4. Laurie Schwaller | April 23, 2014 at 3:19 pm | Reply

    Really like this one, John. I can see it and hear it and smell it and imagine it.

    Thank you!

    Fabulous shot of the herons in the big tree, too.

    🙂

    Like

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