Old King Coal

Mountains shoveled
Smelled of sulfur
Soot, stained insides
Outsides of everything
Who still knew
How to bank a fire
So it lasted till morning?
Mine tailings, shafts
Abandoned, concrete filled
Subsidence from
Collapsed timbers
Scars, both seen and unseen
What was left
From when coal was king?
No coal, no industrial revolution
Answered, Old King Coal

Services No Longer Needed

Forklifts buzzed about the storage lot
He had practiced this in his mind
So much, It seemed real
Didn’t B. S. around–got things done
Comfortable swinging his body
On and off, stake-bed trucks
Liked by bosses–associates, as well
Until the day, things went wrong
Nobody dared look him in the eye
Loyalty–what a joke that was
The case, argued, and closed
Just another has-been, trudged
Through the gray, gravel parking lot