Rabbit rabbit rabbit…and no returns.

Rabbit rabbit rabbit…and no returns.

Natural caverns

Have stalactites

Meeting stalagmites

In slow motion.

Places full of magic,

Potions and witches.

Tourists laugh nervously

When the lights go out.

There is rarely ever

Any talk of devilment

Or ghostly apparitions

At a pithead

On a working seam.

Not at the coalface

Where superstition is hidden

Beneath the dust.

Further down

Deeper into the dark shafts

Which were closed

After heavy roof falls,

Where black water runs

As thick as tallow,

Still bleeding in

The pale yellow

Of old flames,

There are shadows of sadness

Flickering

In the bloom of stalactites.

Left to grow

All alone in absence,

Where there is always an echo

Of yesterday

Lurking alongside the menace.

In the acoustic drip

Of calcite leaving a deposit

Without being asked to contribute

To a display.

Nobody lingers

If they can help it.

Strong men cross their fingers

There is no celebration

Just safety in numbers.

Survival lies in the practice

Of good fortune,

The last man out

Always counted as lucky.

Nobody wants the lights

To burn down

Until the back shift ends,

The big wheel is wound

All the way around

And the all-clear sounds.