Clogs and shawls
She wanted to play the piano,
have dancing lessons, train to be a nurse,
deliver babies. But there were mouths to feed
so she worked on the pit brow sorting coal.
They called her a Pit Brew Lassie.
After a while she learned to like her job,
the chatter with the girls, the laughter and the jokes.
She loved to walk down the pit lane in Spring
listen to the bird song, smell the Hawthorn blossom
her head and shoulders swathed in a shawl,
her clogs clicking cobbles.
At the weekend she went to church
had Sunday dinner with her family
went for a walk, wearing
a hat with a feather, pointed shoes
that pinched her toes and
white lace gloves to hide her fingers.
Sally James
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