The Big Sandy Mountaineer -

Death by Modern Day

Like a cat moved across country

I make my way home

Pulled by instinct to a Montana

prairie town where I appear

on the porch of a cabin

Curl up with a Border Collie

and a cat named Damn

My worldly wounds licked

until something inside squeezes

And the city cuts close

A haven taken for granted

Bear Paw Mountain beauty

over bleak plains

Brushed in a plein-air painting

that blends into the wall of my mind

I expected equal permanency

from the 700 population

Guaranteed by tradition since

pioneer grandparents handed down

homesteads to chosen children

Leaving leftover siblings

to relocate in other locales

Community vital signs strong before

drought disease weakened its pulse

When the price of grain fell

but rain or snow didn’t

And wheat field fever ravaged

a five year epidemic

Where dead deer paint

a pessimistic plein-air

And bloated bees dehydrate

beside deserted hives

My hometown headed for the same fate

with fifty-some houses for sale

Gas station, drug store

and coffee shop dried up

Evaporated by environmental mandates

and occupation evacuation

Rest home regulated out of existence

And local bank consumed

by corporate cancer

That eats away at farms

in foreclosure affliction

Until nothing survives except

hollow houses and inhabited graves

Ghost memories that

haunt my plein-air painting

And helplessness that bleeds

heavier than city lacerations

Previously published in Montana Voices

Author’s note: This was written before Big Sandy Activities came and revived Big Sandy’s economy.