Silver Mine
The twisting dark
of the mined seam—
receding down
into the hillside:
a vacancy left
by the tons of blasted ore,
pick-axed and shoveled,
hauled out
and smelted into ingots—
silver chains and inlaid
teeth, wealth.
Someone’s. Somewhere
else.
Here, the dark seam—
an absence twisting
away
as if the ore
had never been,
and the men
who worked the seam
had never been.
As if this silence
had always been.
Silver Mine by Tim Hunt | Sandalwood Poetry Reed Diffuser
$15.00Price
Tim Hunt’s six collections include Western Where and Voice to Voice in the Dark (both Broadstone Books) and Ticket Stubs & Liner Notes (winner of the 2018 Main Street Rag Poetry Book Award). Originally from the hill country of northern California, he and his wife Susan live in Normal, Illinois.
