Dust always blowing about the town, Except when sea-fog laid it down, And I was one of the children told Some of the blowing dust was gold. All the dust the wind blew high Appeared like gold in the sunset sky, But I was one of the children told Some of the dust was really gold. Such was life in the Golden Gate: Gold dusted all we drank and ate, And I was one of the children told, 'We all must eat our peck of gold.' | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CONTRA MORTEM: THE LEAVES by HAYDEN CARRUTH THE SOCIOLOGY OF TOYOTAS AND JADE CHRYSANTHEMUMS by HAYDEN CARRUTH AFTER THE PAPAGO by JAMES GALVIN TO JOHN BROWN by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON A NEW HYMN by KATHERINE MANSFIELD JOHNNY APPLESEED by EDGAR LEE MASTERS HOMAGE TO SEXTUS PROPERTIUS: 8 by EZRA POUND |