Inside

Goldmine abandoned.

Hatchling too.

Wind swept sycamores.

Leaves cover ground.

Swirling wind in the void.

Exposing long buried woe.

Not loved, No love but dog.

But love found again.

A Mother Lode.

Then a dark moonless night.

Not even a glimmer of gold.

When the sun rises we can see.

Rejoice, Rejoice.

The gold is always in the mine.

Just look inside…..behold.