in POETRY

COAL MINER

FALLS BW MEXICO

 

 

The twisted wreckage of your dreams
haunts all my waking hours.

I pick up my weary baggage
and silently walk toward the end
of a drought worn stream.

Your voice is flat and hollow
no longer does your music move me
but in the deathly dusk of the fallen sun
your tears shine in a sparkle of diamonds.