Steelwork Summer
Blast furnace sky swings down
Pours a molten mix the way they lay roads
Press it in, choke you up on din and dust
Slink along the walls, close
Hugging that stingy strip of shade
Once summer was a skipping girl
Only now and then might fire in scarlet blush
Now it’s the sweaty worker’s weary grin
He flashes through rutted blackened days
Of rolling sweltering lines across the city life
Oh yes, we work it, summer, fuel the forge
Temper the steel
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