THE FOUNDRY

By Frank Oliver Call

Two monsters,

Iron and Coal,

Sleep in the darkness.

A poisonous scarlet breath blows over them,

And they awake hissing and writhing,

And spew forth blood-red vomit

In streams like fiery serpents.

Then from the reeking pools

A monstrous brood is born,

Black, strong, beautiful.

But we turn away our tired eyes,

And try to find the sky above the smoke-clouds.