Ted
Ted strikes an arc
making new steel
burning rod in small sun's glare
Turning to shield my eyes
I see the shadows dancing on the wall
There is no destruction here
this is the place where things get fixed
it's a place of repair
renewal
creation and regeneration
where I feel the warmth
blown from the welder's engine
The shield flips up
while he chips the slag
revealing the new bead
regular, symmetrical, strong
his head nods, the shield falls back
and the shadows dance again