Gold
This place is gold.
People come.
They like it.
The sand,
the sky,
the sun.
The golden light here, 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.
Some came to this place for real gold
years ago.
Now I head south
to the autumn in Arrowtown.
To remember ancesters.
Gold, red and yellow
in the trees.
The old timers
went there for gold too.
Mined the rivers
for the bright yellow metal.
Fortunes
won
and lost.
And this winter
I fly to the gold Coast
in Australia.
My family
is worth
more
than
gold
to me.