Old Man Gold-Pan

Under the dust
in your boots,
the river
meanders well.
~
What’s all
this talk
about dead
river beds,
~
When the
sky colours
your eyes,
~
When the
sky colours
my eyes…
Old man gold-pan.


(Neil Young ~ From the album ‘Harvest’: Heart of Gold

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A Riddle (?): The Desert and the Cricket are Friends of Mine

Sugar in my veins;
I can freeze before the thaw.

When it’s dry… oh so very dry,
my body sheds it’s skin,
into a waterproof house,

And when the river flows,
you will hear my soft echoes
into the night.

In land or water or both;
what am I, when i’m proof
of the living dead?