Long Way From Home
© 2008 Mark Witters

Struggle from day to day.
Everything's future-tense.
No kind of life to live.
None of it makes any sense.
A gold-bearing lode's cutting through my mind.

The fire cannot go out.
Digging must keep on.
Smoke snakes from the shaft.
The gold will soon be gone.
This blackened face-scarred and deeply lined.


The pay streak can't be found.
Been down forty feet.
It's all been so damned slow,
But we can't admit defeat.
These hollow eyes have seen nothing new.

It can't be put to words-
All that I've been through.
The toil and suffering
Steeped in hoochinoo.
A long way from home and the love I once knew...