River

2217  ‘Abide,’ came a voice from above the bank.
2218  ‘You'll cop what's coming to you quickly enough.’
2219  Yet he went at his work, whetting the blade,
2220  not showing until it was sharpened and stropped.
2221  Then out of the crags he comes through the cave-mouth,
2222  whirling into view with a wondrous weapon,
2223  a Danish-style axe for doling out death,
2224  with a brute of a blade curving back to the haft
2225  filed on a stone, a four-footer at least
2226  by the look of the length of its shining lace.
2227  And again he was green, like a year ago,
2228  with green hair and flesh and a fully green face,
2229  and firmly on green feet he came stomping forward,
2230  the handle of that axe like a staff in his hand.
2231  At the edge of the water he will not wade
2232  but vaults the stream with the shaft, and strides
2233  with an ominous face onto earth covered over
2234      with snow.