Ash on the Water - Electric Bard

Grey powder floats upon the cattle trough Arthur sweeps the flagstones with a ragged cough Nobody is talking of the roaring height That split the ridge in two across the night The mountain spat a furnace from its belly crack And sent the boiling mud along the river track We wipe the brimstone off the kitchen sill Pretending not to notice that the woods are still I dip the tin cup down into the well Hoping that the water didn't catch the smell We keep the broomsticks moving in a crooked line To tell our shaking fingers that the roof is fine Soot on the bucket rim. Grey in the drinking pan. Scrape off the sediment. Act like a steady man. A heavy shadow hangs above the timber crest. Nobody wants to put the quiet to the test. Skim The Floating Ash Away Across The Pond Afraid To Look At What Is Smoldering Beyond Scrub The Coarse Grey Flakes From Every Paving Slate Wondering If Tremors Rattle At The Gate Keep the rag moving, don't you dare look high Nobody can look at that torn-open sky Mistress Higgins rinses out a pewter bowl Counting up the chimney pots to keep control The lahar drowned the willow down at Cooper's mill And left a lake of gravel that is steaming still We patch the broken hurdles by the pasture shed As if the cows are caring for the words we said A sudden shudder travels through the limestone floor Every single hand stops working by the door We hold our breath together, waiting on the sound Wondering if fire wants to swallow down the ground Nothing but a pheasant taking frantic flight Leaving us to finish up before the night Ash in the cistern. Ash in the creek. Tasting the sulfur every time we speak. Is the mountain resting? Is the giant done? We keep on scrubbing under a blinded sun. Skim The Floating Ash Away Across The Pond Afraid To Look At What Is Smoldering Beyond Scrub The Coarse Grey Flakes From Every Paving Slate Wondering If Tremors Rattle At The Gate Keep the rag moving, don't you dare look high Nobody can look at that torn-open sky Rinse the stone. Clear the drain. Waiting for the sky to cough again.