Gold (August)

The sport of a chance inspired them to throw it in and sail south. Ballarat fields were game and creekbeds panned in a race against time. Space filled to meet a greed. Sinew and will helped, but sometimes they just tripped over a Welcome Stranger. Sparkle was in eye of beholder. The chance of sport inspires them to set aside all else for the fourth August. Rio lanes are the plain same and gymnasiums are graced with need. Space fills to greet speed. Sinew and will justify as thousands of strangers triple exertion. Sparkling is the eye of the believer.

Gold (January)

I dream of looking out a window. Coastal trees are on fire. Everything is catching around me. We must get out, the only important things people and animals, anything living. I impress on those nearby we must leave. I cannot find my footwear, it doesn’t matter. I wake up. It’s Melbourne, the sixth of January. Time to take down the cards, their miniatures in various styles, magi with gold boxes. Time to read them again quietly, a name a thought. Time to untie baubles from the homemade tree, back in their container, memories of the golden apples of the sun.