These risings,
Solemn erections,
The Gold Road
twisting in sand and rock,
rock and
sand,
Those lost foundations,
Those crumblings,
Such humble dwellings,
Fallen past
Are devoured in time.
I walked the hills to see
their cemetery.
I did not find,
Though saw
The tombstones all around,
The dead dreams,
Lost prayers upon desert winds,
The Gold Road,
now wound down,
All wordless reminders,
Not warnings
or promises,
But silent sentinels,
testimonials to change,
Like each old man
and child alike,
And broken heart and wedding vow,
All moving tombstones
Whose solid shadows fall
On fleeting sands of time,
and timeless progression.
The Old Gold road
Is paved today,
And all that was
Is now in ruin.
c. Jan 1992
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