The Miner

The Miner

Too long a miner
now digging up things I shouldn’t
last year I couldn’t.
The year before that,
I wouldn’t

I was trapped
in the soot black
with no Canary
no sweet sound
or light from a shaft

I have been digging
desperately, hopefully, helplessly
in the wrong direction

I put my pick axe down
straighten my back and turn about
Follow my heart
Follow no sound

On the way back to the surface
I throw away the rest of my tools
I shout in my head “Enough”
I have been too long a miner
too long the fool

I am on my way to the surface, where I can get clean
Copyright © | Year Posted 2018

Poem

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Pigeon Tart Avatar
October 20, 2018 at 9:21 PM
Sunny warm topside. Love the depth.
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