Human chain (*)

The tap tap tap has passed.
Terrace doors are opened one by one
and one by one are shut
closing life behind them.

One by one the men light up
their first of the day,
their last before evenfall.

Down the street,
along the lane,
up the hill.

The derrick tower looms large ahead
above the grumbling heaps
amidst the grey clouds
silently hugging the warming ground.

In the cage
down, down
to the darkness.

Along tunnels,
ever narrowing,
ever shallowing,
to greet the face.

The air thickens
rank with sweat and dust.
Shirts removed their own toil
drips and streaks their chests.

The bird sings
to the clunk clink
of chisel and hammer
against the wall.

The rush of baskets
scurrying,
carrying away
the debris of destruction.

A man coughs and spits.
The birds continues to twitter.

© Sheila Ash 3^rd July 2017

(*) The titles comes from the twelfth and final poetry collection and poem of the same title by Seamus Heaney – see https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Human_Chain_(poetry_collection)

Journey

Many paths weave life’s tapestry

each easy to walk absently

guided by others design.

I thought I wanted conformity

until the enormity

of life’s banality

blasted upon me

like a giant neon sign.

The road less travelled was frosty

full of uncertainties

doubts about ability,

about emotional maturity

muddied my choice.

People often say “You’re brave”

so much so

it becomes a triviality

echoing superficiality

reflecting their mindless normality

showing only the limits of their totality

each day passing by

in the same atonal voice.

I thought my route not brave at all

a compromise

in my eyes

representing

a failure to take chances

no daring strides or advances

oftimes stuck in circumstances

outside of my sway.

With Capricorn in the ascendant

I strode forth resplendent

developing independence

passed down from my descendants

in ancestral DNA.

I travelled far and wide

facing fire and tide

I never tried to hide

from experiencing hospitality,

embracing diversity

around the globe .

I travelled hopefully

Never letting objectivity

accept the immorality

of social marginality

of political impartiality

always continued to probe.

As I’m watching the finality

of other’s in their frailty

I realise with humility

the final steps are drawn

for everyone

not in summation

but in steady decline and negation

a total elimination

of the force which made us strong.

Hoping for a departure with dignity

without too much volatility

nor the needless litany

from an unwanted priest.

But a silent misty destiny

of willowy sleep and peace.

© Sheila Ash 2^nd July 2017

Reflections

I’ m often tearful telling stories
The ones which made me who I am
The ones which spun the threads that became my DNA
The ones which shaped the bones and muscles that became my body
The ones which stoked my heart’s chambers, fired up its pistons
and made the embers of my soul.
© Sheila Ash 2^nd July 2017