Ely and his father both worked the mines
Never the same shift
Sharing similar features for a father and son
Right down to the rough-hewn hands and eyelashes
Inscribed with coal dust
When things got rough underground
After eight dark hours, the sight of this elevator told them
What kind of day it was above ground
Metal siding flapping like a tape measure in the wind
Sounding much like their empty lunch pales being collected
Maybe a few more shingles or boards blown off
Today is a good day
The sky is favorable
Clerestory Poetry Journal 