is carved into rock, where
underground homes can escape
from the sun
and the excitement of an opal hunt
flavours today’s conversation,
with visitors soon arriving
in spite of 40c on the earth surface,
eagerly joining
our treasure of anticipation
to be found in glittering green,
mindful of choking dust
and climbing humps of hillsides,
a part of the confrontation
of back-then mining
days, and noodling tomorrow
indeed our heart’s pleasure.
© Richard L. Provencher
Comments
Richard L. Prov... | June 24, 2011 - 02:04
Richard L. Provencher
Highhat | June 24, 2011 - 06:35
I have seen pictures of the opal mines and the homes underground. Pretty amazing. Good poem Richard- you captured the sight well and the feel of mining I think.
atb
;)Pia
Richard L. Prov... | June 26, 2011 - 00:05
Hello again, Pia---I am from the cool North Country of northern Quebec, and the first time our family moved to warm southern Ontario, ie Toronto, we almost perished. So when I wrote this story-poem from a story; it is sort of a 'found' poem, I had to convey the heat. Cheers. Richard LP