Cooling the Last Furnace

The steam is rising from the concrete floor
Four in the morning and the gates are wide
The iron belly going dark at last
We turn the brass until the water hums

My heavy apron stiff against the knee
The dry air clinging to the collar bone
A river settling in the open trough
The brightest orange turning into slate

Cooling the last furnace
Standing in the quiet spray
All the heavy burning gone
Nothing left to keep awake

The chimney loses its enormous breath
A swallow settles on the iron beam
Your lukewarm coffee in the paper cup
We watch the shadow take the brickwork back

Cooling the last furnace
Standing in the quiet spray
All the heavy burning gone
Nothing left to keep awake

The town is silent by the riverbend
The gravel wet along the railway track
We gave the valley twenty years of sun
And now the morning has the room to breathe

Cooling the last furnace
Standing in the quiet spray
All the heavy burning gone
Nothing left to keep awake

The metal shivers as it turns to stone
A slow drip echoes on the copper plate
Switch off the floodlight by the loading dock
Cooling the last furnace in the grey