Sago Diaries

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Sago Diaries


Each Greedy Sip

A cry from the dark
haunting, haunting
the deadly air
settling in dark clouds.

Breathless black
soot and dust
the silent monoxide
seeping the seams

while above, life
in moments like days
every breath seems stolen
from those far below.

The faintest hope
a dim light and air
fresh air – a prayer
their only chance.

We wait and breathe
each greedy sip
in the last – their
last gasps of hope.

 

In Forty Hours

In forty hours - give or take
in the inches and feet
beneath the ground
in the fading light
a flickering hope
in the breathless air,
inhaled, then exhaled
in a thousand prayers
momentarily answered - given
then brutally taken away
in forty hours - give or take.

 

XII

when so many
depended

a barrow in red
flickering lights

twelve wheeled
in silent rain

beside the white
ambulances


    (with apologies to W.C.Willams)

 

sago diary

torns bits of paper
scrawled words
in blotched ink
voices from the darkness
coarse whispers
in faint "I love yous"
silently fade to black

gently gone to sleep

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4 Comments
AnonymousAnonymousover 18 years ago
Excellent job

on a subject that has so caught and held the public eye. Very sad and poignant and captured those emotions perfectly.

WickedEveWickedEveover 18 years ago
~

I'm glad someone wrote this and wrote it so well. It was haunting to read in the news about the notes those miners left behind. And I love your diary approach to this poem.

LeBrozLeBrozover 18 years ago
~~

Thank you.

A baker's dozen were caught that night

One made it out and fights for his life.

I was unable to come up with words fitting to remember those men from the Sago mine - you've done an excellent job here.

My Erotic TrailMy Erotic Trailover 18 years ago
head scratching

huh? jim, I read to the bottom but I felt as though I should have not <grinin' I enjoyed your puzzle play on words, decayed....

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