Dustbowl

Once upon a strange planet, I dithered without care or permit,

Over many canyons, sheer and bright--

While I delved, nearly plummeting, suddenly there came a howling,

As if some creature was hunting, thirsting in broad daylight.

“Tis but wind,” I muttered, “howling in broad daylight--

Only this and nothing more.”

Terribly wrong I think back now;

As each howl brought a spectre unto the fore.

I wished the contrary--it was but pecuniary

From the darkest shadow--shadow hand of Charon--

Took and soil, the shadow of Charon--

Golden as King Midas.