
Can you smell that?
Earth’s firedamp lingering.
We need more than flames,
more than metal sieves,
to ward off danger.
Old Humphry swung his lamp in mindless times,
when men were cheap and seams were rich with black.
Can you hear that?
Diminished songs of life.
Yellow feathers float
silent as unsung
nursery rhymes,
and coils of ropes no longer skipped or jumped.
The playground’s empty, save for slurried stacks.
Can you see that?
Where black stones mark the spot?
Illumination
seems a pointless thing
when we close our eyes.
But when the flame expires and all is dark,
What then, my world, will ever bring you back?
Linking this to The Sunday Blog Spot and today’s Sunday Muse photo prompt. ( http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/). Tried an extension of a duodora and went for three verses.