Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, GHOST TOWN, by MARGARET ADAMS



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GHOST TOWN, by            
First Line: Oh, town of ghosts and drifted sand
Last Line: How long will your battered houses stand?
Subject(s): Ghost Towns


Oh, town of ghosts and drifted sand,
How gaunt your beaten houses stand,
With flapping doors that idly swing
As desert winds their forces bring
Against the splintered panels gray --
While on your thresholds, pack-rats play.
Oh, little dead Nevada town
Of dusty gray and faded brown,
In your steep streets, the tumble-weed
Has dropped in ruts and gone to seed.
The sky -- the earth -- the universe
Lie stark beneath some lonely curse!
Tell me -- do you remember days
When through a misty, golden haze
You planned on wealth and happiness,
And never dreamed it could be less?
When nuggets bright passed hand to hand --
When men called this the promised land?
Now, down your lonely, empty streets
Only the echo beats -- and repeats
Like a haunting song sung o'er and o'er,
The squeaking hinge and slamming door.
Little town of ghosts and drifted sand --
How long will your battered houses stand?





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