Katie Mallett
Rust to rust
(On a cast iron memorial)
What lies beneath this skin, this russet coat
That smears its dust upon my fingertips?
A lurid stain, like dehydrating blood,
A warning brush of death from vampire lips.
I try to read the letters, but they break
To flakes which fall towards the ground beneath
This monument, to lie upon the grass
Like petals scattered from a dying wreath.
Who knows who lies below this shallow mound -
A man of iron will, who would not yield
To outside forces, or a weaker soul,
Drawn like filings to a magnet's field?
In the end all yield to chemistry.
Our die was cast when fed, before our birth,
On oxygen and iron, always pulled
To join the lodestone of our mother earth.
Page(s) 33
magazine list
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- Lamport Court
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- Paper, The
- Pen Pusher Magazine
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- Poetry Salzburg Review
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- Rialto, The
- Second Aeon
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- Shearsman
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- Staple
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- Tabla Book of New Verse, The
- Thumbscrew
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- Ugly Tree, The
- Weyfarers
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- Yellow Crane, The