to fill a gap,
;
SECRET LIFE OF A PITCHECK
I remember the day that we were born
1949, on an early January morn.
Freezing cold, I felt so brittle
Before being stamped I remember little.
A sudden heavy metal clout
Turned all my lethargy inside out.
On that day I was bequeathed my title
Allocated a task, a role so vital.
A given identity forever my own
To the trust of a miner I was forever sworn.
My twin struck to life a minute later
A precision copy by the same creator.
He was silver I was gold,
(Alloy and Brass if truths were told).
319, our identities were equal.
Started together our lifetime’s sequel.
Hung together by our ears
On a board in an office for forty-eight years.
The following morning still dark and cold
I thought I heard our birth names called
“319” in a boyish trembling voice,
319, that made us the only choice.
Lifted from the hook with scant regard
Through the window to a lad in the yard.
Unhooked with thumb and roughened finger
Into the sweaty excited palm of a new beginner.
This first trip to pit bank kept in the hand,
Later trips in jacket pocket not so grand.
My silver twin here completed his trip
Whilst I was retained in sweaty grip.
Carried forward midst a dozen voices
An inert metal disc without any choices.
A quietness now a gentle swaying,
“Mind the gate,” a man was saying,
A gentle lift in total silence
A sudden massive sinking sense.
Unexpected fear contracting fingers
Locked in memory, forever lingers.
Hurtled through the massive drop
Seemed forever until the stop.
Fingers eased in grateful calm
My edge imprinted on the palm.
I absorbed the taste, the smell the damp
The lack of freedom as in a clamp.
Not real, but with a feel of it
First time sensations of the pit.
Strange but not without a welcome
A bonding, immediately awesome.
The presence of generations here before
Waiting as if behind an unseen door.
A sudden step forward into history,
Surrounding void of even darker mystery.
The sense and smell of men and horses
Remaining even after long run their courses.
The instant dream was set aside
“Watch yer backs”, an old man cried.
Two tubs of coal replaced the dozen men
Hurtled to surface within the count of ten.
The speed, the noise, the never known thrill
In the same way as my number, indented still.
My personal carrier was ill at ease
Not really knowing how to please.
Instructions harsh, with foreign titles
Many a word not found in Bibles.
Hows’, whens’ and wheres’ accepted as a try
But never to utter the one word “Why?”
In the hand that pushed the empty tubs
Many a scratch and metal rubs,
Until that is, I was dropped between the track
“Pick it up”, I heard and then a crack.
“Put your check where it can’t be lost
It is yours to guard at any cost”
I felt so proud to know my worth
A valid reason for my birth
The reason why was never in question
Sufficient to expect the future affection.
Such it was for close on half a century
Respected each other with a mark of gentry.
Years went by and my collier earned his place
As apprentice hewer on the face
As my guardian gained his shine
Ageing took over and I lost mine.
We shared the scratches, blows and pressures
But also the good times as in treasures.
The eight and half hours spent apart
From my silver brother wasn’t easy at the start
But the fifteen and half together, face to face
In our time office, deployment place,
Caused tales of his sunshine to became so boring
That between the shifts he had me snoring.
In his lifetime pristine he kept.
Most of the day he must have slept.
Whilst I was part of a darkened life
He was kept free from any strife.
I now feel the richer for my part
I am glad I had the Golden start.