We Crouch in Caves by Elaine Dion
We crouch in caves of dirt and coal,
Our bodies stiff and fingers wrapped with tape.
This place is an endless ebony tunnel.
With counted beats, our muscles strong and tight
5 Chip away at walls of rock.
Faster now to fight the clock,
The air resounds with the sound of picks;
With steady rhythm in our souls,
We work in pairs, my dad and I.
10 We dream secret dreams
Until the whistle leaves us spent but done.
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