The Power of Gold

The women are lovely, the wine is superb but there’s something about the song that disturbs you…~Dan Fogelberg

On the point great blue heron throaty-croaks.
Wondrous beings rise beneath glass, upstrokes
create perfect circles, rippling. Clear
courage hurtles me through crippling fear.

Tardy, I do not fit. You do not get
me, tangled shoelaces ditched, bare feet wet
in morning praise. You scorn my history–
her story never told, a mystery

not worth a cent–say I wouldn’t give you
if you begged
. Apprised, I enter lake blue
reflections disguised, differences make
I am a stone thrown, all that you forsake

becoming new unchained by patterns old
which surface to me watching brave and bold.
The gifts I offer rare and strange. Behold
I dance freely. You sink locked in your gold.


Inspired by: Throat, Wondrous, Tardy and Tangled Shoelaces and reflecting upon the scorn expressed at the state of my bank account.