Wild West Wind

A Poem by Tate Morgan

"Only one soul had made it out and lived through that horrible day" "You know" she said, “they went to bed that same night that they passed away"

We were traveling roads out west

'cross the plains of the great divide

We'd been up into Canada

a country that’s both tall and wide

We drove across the Queens Highway

over the mountains one by one

To the North West Territories

in the land of the midnight sun

Where we came upon a mountain

that was cleaved in half at the top

At the bottom lay the result

for there the road came to a stop.

Where once had been a little town

now lay the boulders far and wide

An earthquake had torn it in half

and ripped off an entire side

At the base of the mountain lay

a plaque inscribed with all the names

Of those who had perished there

all the families who'd lost their claims

Each of them were drawn by riches

to the gold fields of the North West

There strong of heart, sought a new start

and were willing to brave the test

An old woman in the diner

where we stopped to marvel the scene

Set there telling us the story

as she managed to cook and clean

"Only one soul had made it out

and lived through that horrible day"

"You know" she said, “they went to bed

that same night that they passed away"

"The night before had seen a storm

that blew a gale across the bridge

They'd built with pride, to the far side

that led to the top of the ridge

There they had drilled and dug and fought

to reach the gold and silver vein

like the miners, Forty Niners

and their kin of the Spanish Maine"

"A child’s cry was the only sound

that could be heard that fateful morn"

But after that I'm sure she wished

that perhaps she'd never been born

The old woman’s face lined with pain

told how she'd lived through cold and fright

Recanted as if yesterday

for the folks she had lost that night

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© 2020 Tate Morgan

Author's Note

Around 1990 I was out in western Canada in the mountains near the north west territories when I came upon this missing town. Sometime between 1907 and 1910 a small town was lost to a earthquake. There I came face to face with history. This is an attempt to do justice to those whose warm hearts are buried there in the cold cold ground.

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Reviews

Patricia Wedel

dear Tate... you are a prolific writer.
I felt the loss and heart-break of this town.
My Mother's family faced challenges in the
Coal mines of West Virginia, and many died of Black Lung,
as did my grandfather. Earthquakes are quick and
leave a sense of hopelessness. truly, Pat

Posted 4 Years Ago

4 Years Ago

Thank you so much. I tried to tell it as I experienced it those years ago

Einstein Noodle

great pic .. love the theme .. the time period has strong adventurous and romantic appeal for me .. so... was the cook and bottle washer real or fictitious ... was she the lone survivor?
E.