Thinking of Granddad
Known for his oatmeal cookies,
Bohemian phrases,
extra-sharp wit and snowplow
blades, Gramps- the county blacksmith
shod his final horse, sharpened
his last edge, plowed his way
back to the old anvil, the hearth
that molded his soul’s metal,
where shaped tongues sang out,
forged by heating and hammering
in frigid Montana winter.
Furnace coals- fading embers
of a fearless life in frozen snow
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