Written by: cherilyn fry

Echos of long past
haunt my thoughts
as the verdant valley
stretches before my light dazzled eyes
I imagine the pioneers
forging ahead
and what I see now
are the remains
of these trails they forged
as wagon wheels
indelebley upon the ground

I imagine the women
in their hooded coverings
stirring up pots of baked beans
but Annie Oakley
probably was never indited
for stooping to that low

the wild west was not for the faint hearted
as Indians rode roughshod over
who wore their brave hearts upon
muskets of forged steel
hammering out triumphant blissful sounds
of conquest 
these days were both exciting and grueling
the mettle of women and of men
as they eaked out their existence
time and time again.