The Prospector Poem by Paul Warren

On the hot and dusty Western Australian plain
Gold prospectors made their name
In The Kalgoorlie goldfields it was hard
Using a detector and scrapping dirt in each yard

I worked the ground each weekend in the cooler times
With small claims it was hard work looking for gold finds
One late afternoon as the sun was going down
I saw a prospector detecting and sweeping around

I went up to him to challenge his right to be there
He said it was his claim showing his permit with a flair
But the stamp said it was 1995 as it was dated
Being out of date meant his claim was belated

He apologised saying that he made a mistake
We talked and I saw he wasn't well in the take
So I told him to take a rest at my campsite
To return to his own in the morning after a long hike

We sat and talked around the campfire as the sun went down
And he surprised me that he didn't know much around
He said he didn't keep up with current affairs since retiring
Until he said he was tired and was on his chair sleeping

So I left him and went to my caravan for a night's sleep
In the early morning I was up to get an early morning greet
But he was no where to be seen in the early light
Later whilst prospecting near a bore water hole just right

I saw what looked like a bundle of rags on the ground
As I got closer I recognised the clothes gathered around
They were the same as the prospector from yesterday
With a metal detector lying in the bones in a long stay

© Paul Warren Poetry