Gold

        In the afternoon
        we go to the Gold Souq.
        
        It's a marketplace not far off.
        We make our way from our car
        adeptly parked several streets over:
        Step off the crowded curbs
        cross the crowded streets.
        Cars zip and lurch
        and we dodge them
        as they dodge us.

        The Gold Souq.
        Stroll on a wide sidewalk
        inundated on every edge
        by gold- exquisite glistening gold
        24 carat shimmering gold...
        
        We've come to buy some charms.
        Gold is gold- but when it lines all the shops,
        surrounds you on each and every side,
        glitters in polished windows,
        gleams down narrow passages...
        When it falls in light chains from your hands
        and bangles on your arms
        and pierces your ears
        and makes your fingers heavy...

        When gold is everywhere
        it is bedazzling, radiating brighter
        than when confined to a single case.
        Ounce by ounce, skillfully crafted, adds up
        from simple circlet to intricately worked necklace:
        It becomes a glorious magnitude   
        and is absolutely
        Resplendent.

 

 

poem copyright ©2000 Anne Selden Annab