The Coalminer's Widow Poem by Francis Duggan

The coalminer's widow Joan is getting on in years
Though she's not one to use dyes to hide her gray
She still pushes her shopping trolley to and from the general store
And I see her often though not every day.

The coalminer's widow now lives on her own
In her two bedroom home halfway up hight street hill
Perhaps the oldest person on her street
But there is lots of living in her still.

Her son and daughter in distant cities live
And they visit her once every two years for brief stay
And her adult grandchildren she seldom ever sees
From where she lives they live long miles away.

Her husband died when he was fifty two
From double pneumonia from working in damp and cold
The miner's lot is not an easy life
And few of them ever live to be old.

But for the miner's widow you ought not feel sorry
For she always seems as happy as can be
And she always has a big smile on her face
And on her do not waste your sympathy.

At the senior citizens club she dance and sing
And she is one who gives the lie to age
She twists and jives and dances around the floor
And people far younger than her upstage.

An aged woman with gaps in her teeth
And she doesn't use hair dyes to hide her gray
But the miner's widow she feels young at heart
And I see her often though not every day.