Come morning the sweetness had turned sour
Was it only yesterday that treasures were
uncovered, held aloft, carried triumphantly
down the hillside? So many of us, so joyful.
The delvers hid theirs underground; some
bartered for a better deal and late-comers rued
their tardiness, could smell what they had missed,
begged for a glimpse of the precious trove.
A few scuttled away to further hills, turning
again and again to see they were not followed..
We took ours home, constantly unfolding the
covers as we gloated, laughed, stroked them,
held them to the light, hugged each other.
We congratulated ourselves, our perseverance,
rejoiced in our good fortune. Where can you hide
treasures safe from tarnish, theft, envy?
Is this the price, a constant watchfulness?
That night we slept with them under the bed,
to feed our dreams,
with the dog on guard
and us, restless.