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More poems about Places
LIVING IN HISTORY
It’s like living in a chapter of history living
in Cobalt fair,
The Silver Trail shows ruined places, ghosts
seem to be there,
The trees whisper names and they call back
from shaft and mill,
And they often seem to gather on the top of
lookout hill.
The drawings on the walls in town take you
back a long way,
Show the hustle and bustle just after the turn
of the century.
The rock ripped asunder, screams, there is
more silver to find,
What a shame you had to leave this pretty
ore all behind.
The loons on the lake seem to sing songs
of the past,
It is a shame, they say, that the prosperity
did not last.
But then to stop and think of the lovely view
we have now,
For there would be no trees, grass, flowers all
bare somehow.
So I’ll live in a chapter of history and enjoy
the beauty found
And leave the rest of the silver sleeping
under the ground.
(Millicent) Ann Margetson 19 May 2006