Deep in the Silt

Black mud sucked at my shins. Good thick muck. Spotted an iron bar stuck sideways in the creek ditch. An old elevator counterweight. Heavy slab. Cold, square corners. Waded in. Dug both fists deep into the cold silt around the flange. Braced my heels. Hauled back with raw shoulder weight. The suction let go with a wet, heavy crack. Cold water churned black around my knees. Carried the dead iron onto a dry granite ledge. Scraped the slimy gray clay off the face with my blunt thumb. Deep stamped numbers showed through. Clean iron underneath. Tapped the metal with heavy knuckles. Low, flat ring. Solid chunk. It sits square on the rock now.