How they petted us, drew us close into their
chest high realm of files and torches,
these men with fingernails like opals,
translucent pink cabachons
embedded in thick, furry hands
which could cleave the Earth’s most precious
heart
or turn Her deepest buried veins to raw liquid;
Who gave us not rubies or gold but
smooth polished cheeks sweet with shaving cream and
tobacco to delight in as if we were
royalty.