The Wind's Anvil Poem by Charles Eastland

THE WIND’S ANVIL

that tonight will be printed
in violent wind and snow
compliments my blazing veins

from “the Point” a block away
I can feel the Atlantic’s fists
pounding the boardwalk to smithers

Here the attic creaks and bends
around my mattress and sleeping cat
heroically the radiator whistles steam

let’s celebrate then whistling heroes
I reach outside the window into cold
white blizzard sheets and fetch a beer

I know many wait behind warm drapes
for their moment to put their signatures
in a seeing heart or upon the virgin snow

Down the attic hall old wild wind plays
such eerie music through vacant rooms
slips unharmed over broken glass

I light a dube from the candle and ponder
I am without a lover but not without love
my candle possess one inch of the world’s fire.

Charles Eastland

(from Selected Poems 10/2015
The Fire Poems- amazonbooks.com)