John I. Blair
Only people who'd gone bust, who had failed
Everywhere else they'd tried,
Settled here, in Oklahoma Territory . . .
So my Father told me more than once.
Well, I've never thought of them as failures,
These relatives of mine in Dewey County.
They'd come through hard times
To this land of rusty gullies,
Drifting sand, gyp rock, endless wind;
And in a flat place between the breaks
Along the north flank of the South Canadian
They found the grace to make one final stand.
Sure, the town never thrived;
Just descendants of the first
Tilled its fields, taught its schools,
Worshipped at its churches, fought its dust,
Filled its graveyard.
But their children,
Their grandchildren, great-grandchildren
Have spread across the country, made full lives,
And remember them with love.
So this time who would say that they had failed?
©2003 John I. Blair