jueves, 8 de marzo de 2012

The Key

Dark iron
smelted in a bloomery
pounded on the beak horn
and browned by the keeper at the forge,
the keys, are now encased in glass.
Each offering, its own collection.

The biggest
- you can get four fingers
through its bow -
was for a warded lock
on a burled door
of the Cathar fortress
at Peyrepertuse.
A door, opened only
by a team of horses,
or a man of the cloth.

After the fall
at Montsegur,
The key passed briefly
to the Counts of Barcelona
before being pillaged
by the bastard Henry of Trastámara
and his band of mercenaries.
It was later lost
in a tense game of Alouette
during the 100 years war.


The castle is now ruined,
a small wooden booth
selling tickets and postcards
lies just to the right
of the vine-streaked arch
where the door once stood.


Yet, here, the key remains.
Picked up for two pesetas in 1981
from a charnego's blanket
at Les Encants fleamarket.
Dark iron, smelted in a bloomery
pounded on the beak horn
browned by the keeper at the forge
encased in glass
and framed,
like an old master.



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