Up the road or down, sometimes further afield, often not for long, we're out most days.
Echoes of Dylan T here. Banknote leaves whispering under foot.
Umm, that rings no bells... is it in Under Milk Wood?
Love the way you mix precious metals with "prospects" . . . so clever, that. If the shares keep dropping, we may have to "prospect" for other things. What could be the new gold rush?
This one ought to transform into one of the shortish poems that you often make. Very pleasing picture and tropes.
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