Operative Effect

Haunted by the odor

Of a past

Shamed by

Nearby townsfolk

Stan is

Taunted for living

In the tannery breeze

From the West

Where sweat sticks to

Hard earned dollars

Metal chips nestle

Into pant cuffs

Sawdust magnetically attracted

To oil covered callouses

Becoming a symbol of

Something more

Than honest labor,

Simple comforts

To a proud craft

Char and flames

Forge something

Deeper within

That is now lost

To all but a memory

Floating down an avenue

Sweetly enticing

With the aroma

Of smoky bacon

Over fruitless branches

Causing a fragrant contemplation

Of a generation

Always scented

Of home

And a glorious hero