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About Doug Davis



Winter Gold

In high, far away country where the air's turned cold
A prospector pauses his quest for gold.
Panning's out, the creek's froze hard
In the mine a tired Grizzly keeps guard.

Nothing to do but sit and wonder
About Earth's treasure yet to plunder.
When will she finally disclose the spot
The vein of nuggets he knows she's got?

A friend from town rides up to check
Brings in a bottle and shuffles the deck.
The hands are played, no score is kept
Outside the world quietly slept.

He then saw his gold in the firelight
And the full moon's glow in the still of the night.
The flicker of lamplight, the full whiskey glass,
And the heart of a friend with time to pass.

He weighed his strike with thanks in his heart
A moment that one might capture in art.
Some thought his effort to search gold was dumb
But it made perfect sense once winter had come.

2012, Doug Davis
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without the author's permission.

This poem is included in the 2012 Winter Art Spur

About Doug Davis
provided 2012

I was born and raised on the foggy coastal cliffs of central California, and grew up among immigrant farmers and fishermen. My family relocated to western Washington, where I've since worked and prospected in the shadow of
tall mountains and fir trees.



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