Friday, December 29, 2017

Sidewalk in a Mining Camp

sidewalk in a mining camp
the boom has long gone bust
head wheels now stand silent
how they gather rust

fall has drawn to winter
rain and fog survive
empty lots and empty bins
still we are alive

sidewalk in a mining camp
changes like the season
stand there month and moment
shake your head and reason

what has been production
to depth or great divide
the point was once to prosper
grandeur to decide

a limit to the landings
random without fuss
left is only a fog
no limit to the dust

long has gone the shadow
from the summer leaves
reason now distorted
levels by degrees

standing on the sidewalk
an empty one at that
reminder of the old days
money in the camp

the city was a magnet
roulette like a rush
fog binds the open
ushers to a hush



the dogs' mother said...


Debra She Who Seeks said...

Awesome poem, Jeanne! Happy New Year to you and your husband! May you have an awesome 2018!