The Iron Shoes

Seven long years I looked for you.

I wore seven pairs of iron shoes.

I ate seven loaves of iron bread.

I climbed seven iron mountains

until I reached this shore.

Here, it is always summer.

Here, the grass is soft underfoot, plums

and peaches fall sweet and ripe

right into our outstretched hands.

We lie at night on sheets edged with lace.

Why is it I cannot sleep?

I lie on the royal pillows,

the wind of your breath rises and falls,

a sliver of moon travels over the hills,

and I wait for sleep to come.

When I dream, I am on that road once more.

I follow a trail of purpose and will,

my legs are strong, and you

my dear are the moon

on the distant horizon.

I know iron. I know its weight. Its taste.

The rise and fall

of black, black hills.

Seven long years I looked for you.

Now I’m lost in this gentle green land.