Gold
There is gold here.
People come to this place.
They like it.
Sunshine,
sand
sky.
The golden light mixes with the greens of the forest
and there is a transformation.
The light is no longer just the light
and the forest is no longer just the forest.
Beautiful
magic.
Long ago people came here for gold.
Digging in the earth and panning in the rivers.
I will head to Arrowtown soon.
With it's famous autumn colours.
Red, green and gold
in the trees.
The richest river in the world
is there
they said.
Miners flocked to the rush.
I go to remember my ancestors
who were part of that
goldrush and to
celebrate with family.
And this winter
I'll be on the Gold Coast.
A holiday,
a getaway.
Family time.
For me the gold
is family.
Not the bright yellow metal.
More
the reflection
of the
light
in the faces of the
people.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Hi, thanks for reading my poetry and thanks for your comment.