Thursday, February 27, 2025

Coal Miners 1933 By Arvilla Fee


In a little blues bar 

in a little blue town

cigarette smoke 

encircled his head,

a most unangelic halo,

but he kept his eyes closed,

lips pressed to the reed

of that silver Selmer sax.

Its deep-throated notes 

hung like tinsel

in the too-warm air

just above the blackened heads

of those who guzzled away

the dust and grit

of another lungless day

beneath shrouded ground

where there is no sun

and canaries go to die.





Arvilla Fee lives in Dayton, Ohio and teaches English for Clark State College. She has published poetry, photography, and short stories in numerous presses, including North of Oxford, Rat’s Ass Review, Mudlark, and many others. Her poetry books, The Human Side, This is Life, and Mosaic: A Million Little Pieces are available on Amazon and Barnes & Noble. Arvilla loves writing, photography and traveling and never leaves home without a snack and water (just in case of an apocalypse). Arvilla’s favorite quote in the whole word is: "It’s not what you look at that matters, it’s what you see.” ~ Henry David Thoreau. To learn more, visit her website and check out her new poetry magazine: https://soulpoetry7.com/

No comments:

Post a Comment

Coal Miners 1933 By Arvilla Fee

In a little blues bar  in a little blue town cigarette smoke  encircled his head, a most unangelic halo, but he kept his eyes closed, lips p...