The Desert Rat

A poet is a miner of his mind and soul Like a prospector is a miner for gold Back in 1849 a lonely man headed West To find desert gold his obsessing quest One day desperation carried him too far Water and luck low lusting yellow dust He saw a covered wagon in hot sun's glow Father Mother Daughter thirsting below Draw horses expired water scarce as gold He gazed into the young girl's soul The love of his life her sad eyes consoled With a sense of doom he told his plan bold Travel by night and avoid the sun's scold Ride my mule and when he stops walk on Saving water four nights will see you through To the river where once the cattails grew I'll get help from Indians don't worry about me He lied knowing no indians as dumb as he Brave men die for an innocent girl's pride That night he watched them ride out of sight There in the last of the cold Desert's light His Mule braying his last heartfelt goodbyes Following in the distance with weak resistance Praying that God would lend them assistance They made the river Owens while death stalked Surviving the fiery furnace of the Devil's Fleu She married a godly man whose posterity grew While far behind beneath the shifting sand Rest the unknown lover whose love she never knew Where the bleached bones of a miner forty-niner lie hidden with their arm around a muleI wrote this poem about two years ago. Hope you like it! Written December 28th, 2001 © on Dec 28 2001 06:50 AM PST   0 • 1