Slowly Turns the Miner

Slowly turns the miner,
his carbide lamp lit—
he thinks of the sooty miles below.
The bowerbird hops,
lifts the clear wrapper of a toffee a miner’s son
several weeks ago held up to
his departing dad,
and brings it home.

Thanks for checking out my poem.

Did I tell you I wrote a novel? You can read it here for free, or get it for your e-reader on iBooks, Amazon or Kobo. Or you can just say you read the book, and donate five bucks down below. Go on.

Gabriel Muoio

$1.00

 

 

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