PAY DIRT

Today I sent my tax payment to the U.S.Treasury to do with what they will, without my input. And yet, as in the following poem of April 15, 1994, a minor treasure showed itself to me the very day I mailed those monies to my greedy Uncle Sam:

Today the IRS took theirs,
but I got back a minor treasure,
pay dirt from funds deposited last fall,
buried in escrow underground.

The vault of morning opened,
and my riches shimmered in the rising sun.

And all that gold was mine to see and count,
mine by grace of God,
beyond the reach of Caesar's tax collector.

A dazzling clutch of daffodils
beneath my woodland trees.

r.moore 4-15-94