Gold Poem by Amala Comer
Gold
Touch this land
and you will be damned.
The miners pick
in your flesh will stick.
A graveyard lantern
in dim light glows
Held in the hand
of The Mountain of Sorrows.
Thursday, April 25, 2013
Topic(s) of this poem: miners
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
August 31st 2012
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8/28/2026 12:05:54 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
Really gold is mountain of sorrow, key to all evils.