Tracks.
Today folk amble along old mining tracks
Where once tin was dug and truck-hauled.
Inclines were handled by boys, blackened
In pit dust, scar-scored the young mauled
Overfull trucks while bal-maidens worked
Sorting rocks before loading, lovely young
Aproned lasses, locks close-capped skirted
Strict rules with sly girl-taunts at lads long
years back as truck-crews when tired sang
back teasing whispers with minimal sound.
Jibing as shovel struck rubble boyish slang
Raised laughter if fun-starved work allowed
Shifts were long and croustrest stop-timed.
Lines early pock-marked faces down shafts
Yet tho\' silence now haunts tracks to mines
Some nights singing of children comes back.