Nefarious Poetry of Dubious Quality
Prospecting
Sifting for gold
She arises each morning
With hopes
the day will bring
A pan so full
She doesn't have to pretend
When the gold is elusive
She thinks of quitting
But a child smiles
Or comes to her comfort
And she puts off her leaving
one more day
Until after twenty years of sifting
She has fashioned
A gilded apron