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


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?