pit pony
down into the deeps
the boy leads the pony
leaves behind bright sunlight
to enter an underworld
dank, cold, airless
with just a miners' lamp to guide them
they walk slowly, carefully
following the rough hewn track
that is the path to hell

all around
nothing but blackness
the smell of pitch, strong, suffocating
coal dust, fine, black, deadly
settling already on their lungs
no sound but the click of hooves and
the dull thud of pick axes on solid stone
in the distance, beyond the lamplight

miners, denizens of the deep
faces blackened by soot
bodies hunched, unable to stand tall
pick axes swinging
batter the virgin rock face
revealing the precious seam of coal, then
extract it, layer by layer
as others, shovels at the ready
heft it into wagons

each harnessed to a pony
held steady by a boy.

Comments:
There are no messages yet
kiwigirl
Poetry
Free Verse
writing kiwigirl
The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched. They must be felt with the heart
--Helen Keller
Bookmark and Share

You must log in to rate.
This has not been rated.

© 2014 WritingRoom.com, LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
WRITING | POETRY WRITING | CREATIVE WRITING | WRITE A BOOK | WRITING CONTESTS | WRITING TIPS