Gold rush

Old man on the River
hunched to his task
panning for a sliver
to fill his flask

A flake of gold
in so much pyrite
he's feeling so old
lookin' quit the sight

He started in the wild
paving the first trails
he had a pan and a fire
a wife waitin' for mail

He had not to loose
in a game of chance
we don’t pick or choose
thrills salty romance

Rolling the dice
on a rocky claim
with a will of ice
in a world yet tame

His life went to booze
with dirt stained pants
widower twice over
a miner's sad dance

Gold in his veins
prayer in his heart
we have forgot name
but remember his part

Julie

D.D.

2/11/2010