Amenome

Gold sweepings pool
in the crucible and a swirling
sunset dances before my eyes.
I breathe in the scent of metal,
wipe the sweat from my brow
and pour the molten liquid
into the hollowed stone.
Bright reds and yellows fade
as it cools and hardens
with no trace of a blemish.

I spend my days fashioning
wondrous objects: pectorals
to adorn rich men’s chests,
necklaces to caress soft necks.

But my masterpiece will be a funerary mask.
It will shine like the sun god Ra
and gild a pharaoh's face for eternity.