Gold Man

Gold Man

His was a feast

on focus,

a piercing plan,

in the lust

of his wishing.

An island was

he,

wealth galvanized

his existence,

food and water

failed to alter him.

Gold man drooled

at numbers

shadows.

Gold man did not

wonder,

if he’d die,

and never

feel the warmth

of a night’s fire,

or the cry

of his own child.

He stood,

within his dreams,

shiny and rich,

wallowing in assets,

moored in the

sea,

of himself.

Finally, the tributaries of want

pooled,

gold man,

one day,

turned to gold.

He screamed

from inside

himself,

but the cast of bullion

reflected

a silence of content,

as he stood guard

at the expense

of himself,

in the commons

in a fountain

in a park.

All the while,

the underprivileged,

as they passed,

were happy

for gold man.

He gave them hope

in their blizzards

of common.

They had heard,

money was the root

of all evil,

but gold man

was proof,

dreams

really do come true.

Hayward 2006