There is a quarry nearby
We’ve seen the wagons
Going to and fro
When I was a young man
An apprentice electrical engineer
I used to repair the jib controls
On a Ruston Bucyrus 5W
A walking crane
With a 20 tonne bucket
The drum contacts had to be cleaned
With fine, then finer, emery cloth
Before being set to work
Some days, with the jib
Out over the cut
I would have to change the light bulbs
Which meant hanging
Over the nothingness
Of impending vertigo
With only the world’s clear air
Down to the broken rocks
Fifty metres below
This helped ingrain within me
A fear of heights
Which I cannot now step over
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