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
Anonymous