A Welsh Coal Mines web page

Miners
Squatting on haunches under flat caps
semi-strangled by silk mufflers
encased in watch-chained waistcoats
with Institute walls for chair backs
and dark eyes squinting against the light
in between drags on fags and pipe pulls
they poured out their prophecies
to anyone who might listen

Philosophers intellectuals scholars
the Platos and Aristotles 
of coal mining

We had no time to stop and listen
for we had joined other factions
we were moving to the new rock and roll
considered their talk outmoded
for youth knew better
disregarded the wizened old men
thought they cut sad figures 

but when I returned 
to share my own philosophy
they were no longer there
even the benches that replaced
their singular territories
were empty

Geoff Jones

The Pits

Beneath our  house
pits honeycombed the valley
beneath our street
miners travelled down their own roadways

When I left
the winding wheels were winding down
and miners travelled on the surface 
in their own cars
no longer those of their masters 

Above Amington Pit
where I now live
the canal tramways have disappeared
landscaped by European cash

And when I return to Wales
the same imported grass
mining cashed in for good

Geoff Jones