Story Poem about a Coal Mine Horse

 

Autumnal Greetings!

 

As Mother Nature turns the Midwest into autumnal shades of golds, oranges, and reds and as the nights grow longer and cooler, do you ever sit back and recall the scary stories you heard during your youth? The most remarkable of such stories in my neighborhood sprang before our imaginations when our neighbor Margie told my sister and me the story of the mine horse that allegedly passed away (decades before we were born) in the mine pond on the property adjacent to our woods. For the following story poem, I took Margie’s storytelling effort and embellished it a little for you although traces of truth are woven through the verses.

 

After you read the following story poem, dust off a scary story from your storytelling past and try sharing it with someone or a group one night this autumn.

 

* * *

 

In a Dream Came the White, Mine Horse

 

Story Poem by Alice Jane-Marie Massa

 

 

In a dream came the white horse

whose story Margie told.

The massive, milky white horse,

who had worked at the coal mine

that bordered our property line,

galloped gracefully into my dream

to tell me the stories

of the turn-of-the-century mines,

the Indiana mines of the early 1900s, and much more.

 

Born in Italy, in 1879, my grandfather–

who, despite his 6’1”-height,

worked the mines for too many years–

insisted with only a light Italian accent and a couple of tears,

“None of my four sons will ever set foot

in a coal mine.”

None did.

 

Yet, the massive, milky white horse

from the old mine near my house

trots boldly into my dream.

“I know your story. Go away! Go away!

I do not have an apple nor hay for you,” I say.

 

He whinnies with laughter and does not obey.

The massive, milky white horse speaks in my dream,

“Don’t you know I eat coal dust?

Do you know why my eyes are yellow?

Because from all those miners,

I caught the lust for gold.”

He whinnies with laughter, and my body turns cold.

 

“Forget this pretense of the present tense,” I snap.

“Margie told me you drowned in that old pond—

the pond, near the shale hill, our mountain.”

 

“Oh, so, you do know why I am

so massive and milky white.”

 

“If you had really worked in the mine,

you wouldn’t be so tall and white.

Just go! Go, and let me sleep.”

 

“Listen, I was not always a horse of twenty hands;

as a colt, I was a white or cream.

Of course, when I worked, I grew gray and black

from the ever-present coal dust.

How that life weighed down my back!

But, after all those years

of washing in that old pond,

I turned a milky white

so that I could take flight

into your dream to tell you:

lobby against Cavallo Coal Company—

they will blast and scrape and sour

your pretty, little town.”

 

I lie back down, but cannot sleep.

Wiping coal dust from my eyes, I begin to weep.

 

* * *

 

Enjoy all the beauty of this early autumn!

Alice and Leader Dog Willow

 

September 23, 2020, Wednesday

 

 

Advertisement