Hints of why you were here

You arrived in 1866 with your plow , barbed wire, and dreams.

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And those dreams held for a spell, just like the rough-hewn fence posts you worked into the rocky soil.

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But fence posts lean, and oak saplings outgrow their usefulness for stringing wire.

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And the wind blows. It blows hard until your dreams desiccate.

Those remnant hopes of yours pass on through three families

until they are locked out for good.

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Your  fine Victorian home’s windows are boarded over or shattered

and  hidden behind a wind row gone wild.2015 Gorge 092bw

Vermin, owls and pigeons inhabit a drafty barn, once warmed with feeding cattle.

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Your proud barn, is wind warped and paint peeled: a curiosity for nosey travelers.

Are those marmots under its footings?

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There is no outgoing mail.

But the wind remains whispering hints of why you were here.2015 Gorge 093bw