The Best of Intentions

A long walk to the mine

fills him with unease

knowing what

awaits, checking in among the line

of shuffling men tired

from the day before

still coughing up black

that sticks to throats and now

descending into the bowels

of the earth once again --

past special lights embedded

in walls, down and down

until the 2,500 ft level. Grinding

of rock by a crusher brings

ore to the surface

small enough to be smelted

where he will next work

skimming waste from molten

pots of copper where

sulphur gas is hard to breathe

heat to endure --

surviving perils at work

knowing she’s home waiting.