DUST OF DAWN

Silent shadows crept

Over sunken sky;

While darkness came from high;

Accompanied by strange overtones;

From broken voices;

Of Welsh miners

Going home!

Rough hard grimed skin;

Reflecting;

The silvery blue moonlight.

The dust! The muck! The dirt!

Oh! what a shameful sight!

This a poor tribute;

For any man's life.

Think of the miner's plight;

Tedious toil out of sight;

Beneath Mother Earth;

Out of old Sol's light.

Oct. 1971. © Will George.

Will George Poet

will-george-poet.co.uk