Just One More Day
The morning air was chilly,
It was before
dawn.
There was little talk in the changing shed,
Each had his own
thoughts before going down.
Some by rail, others by the shaft,
All
going down.
The corridor lights not yet reached.
The helmet lamps not
yet on. Darkness envelopes like a shroud.
Each to his
assigned station, In the bowels of the earth.
Darkness just a few
feet away, artificial air,
Thoughts not of now,
But of later. And the never-ending, deeply buried prayer,
One
more day dear Lord, just one more day.
— John D. Kolaz
John D. Kolaz is
retired and spends his days enjoying his four grandchildren, golf,
gardening, and reading. This poem was inspired by the recent mining
disaster in West Virginia.
Submit poems to Corrine Frisch at
cfrisch@illinoistimes.com.
This article appears in Jan 19-25, 2006.
