Poetry Explorer


Classic and Contemporary Poetry


THE PROSPECTOR by IRENE WELCH GRISSOM

First Line: SCENT OF SAGE AND A COYOTE'S SONG
Last Line: THE END OF THE LAST LONG TRAIL.
Subject(s): PROSPECTING;

Scent of sage and a coyote's song,
Silver sand in moonlight gleam,
Glowing days that drift along --
Ever the shining dream.

Flapjacks and bacon frying
In smoke of eventide,
A hot wind softly sighing,
Gray silence deep and wide.

Sawtoothed peaks and lava slopes,
The heat that comes with noon --
Still the eager, youthful hopes,
Vast wealth shall be his soon.

Defeat recedes and distant, dim,
Hidden gold is his alone!
Visions lure and beckon him --
The desert keeps its own.

Years are long and hills grow steep,
On -- and on -- he cannot fail!
Under the sand, fast asleep,
The end of the last long trail.



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