Panning for Gold

Countless tales have been told
Of the California gold fields,
And many a fool
Have been lured
To try their luck
Working the streams and rivers
For their legendary bounty.
Places like Goldfield,
Placer and Calaveras Counties,
Have become Mecca
For gold fevered idiots.
I know because
Once upon a time
I was one.
It is one of oldest follies
Known to man,
Panning for gold.
My brother, Lee, and I
Decided to try our hand at it.
How difficult could it be
To find a nugget of gold,
We each wondered.
My wife was smart,
She and the kids came along
Merely as spectators,
Innocent bystanders
There for a picnic
As much as anything else.
My brother and I
Must have been
A comical sight to see.
Both of us were on crutches,
Each with a leg in a cast.
We labored all day long
Trying our luck
With the pans,
But found nothing,
Except that the water was cold
And Plaster-of-Paris
Gets soggy when wet.
We chose a spot
Upstream of a dredge
Where six locals toiled
Sluicing truck load
After truck load
Of gravel and sand
Dug from who knows where.
From what we could see
We had it easy.
My wife and kids
Sat on the bank
Watching us work.
Every once in a while
She would ask us
Whether or not
We had found anything yet
In her bemused incredulous tone.
At the end of the day
We heard the guys
Working the dredger shout.
They had discovered some color,
A couple flakes of gold
And for this they were excited!
We looked at this tiny vial
That held their day’s findings
And we looked at them
Questioning their sanity!
It didn’t take much mathematics
To figure this definitely
Wouldn’t be our road to riches.
There are easier ways
To make a living
Than trying to glean gold
From those California rivers.