April 2005
A Little Levity
Tales From Glacier Town and Grahams Store
The Big Snow Storm
by Phil Hanson
In the middle a’ Glacier town, at old Graham’s store,
Buncha’ guys us’al talk, & talk & then talk sum more,
About them thar’ good days now a’long since gone bye
That each tries ta ‘member as they heave a snory sigh.
How everythin’ ar’ sure just ain’t like it was the same,
As ta’ day in a guffus, dirty, ‘en hairy woodsman came
Ta buy hisself a lil’ ina way of sum thar’ eatin’ goods,
Havin’ jes’ cum’ ten mile outta them deep piney woods.
En’ all he said when thru’ ta open door he quick strod
Was the lil’ town creek had jes’ risen ‘en kilt’ the road.
With a barky voice he order sum ‘baccy, sugar ‘n flour
En a bag some a tha’ red chewy candy so dandy sour.
Picked it tal’ up and put it in his big black carryin’ sack
Tha’ he slung over his red coat ‘n broad workin’ back,
En’ ‘n he quick like about turned, without nary a word;
Flu’ outta the door ‘n stomped on a cedar porch board
So heavy it made, as tho’ to break, sucha spooky sound,
As if’n his step could pert ner’ shake the sodden ground.
He din’t look back to see tha’ we’d all sorta went pale,
He jes’ turned the store corner ‘en hit the return trail.
We sat still thar’ awhile quiet like a’ tryin’ to think
If we should keep talkin’ ur just have ‘nother drink.
Then Orvin ‘pined as how he thought a bigger day
Was ‘bout fifteen yers ago, he ‘membered Ben to say,
Ta weather tha’ year was somthin’ weird to behold
Not only was it grey gloomy, but it turned really cold;
A causin’ rain to fall up instead of down, as it should,
‘En so fierce it peeled thick bark off’n big cedar wood.
But the real best story tha’ year, ever one of us cud tell,
Twas’ ta’ big snow storm when jes’ one snowflake fell.
They still sit ‘round en’ talk ‘bout ta’ big snow storm of ’02
Wen outta dark n’snarly sky jes’ one turribl snowflake flew.
Wen onct yer told that jes’ one snowy flake hit the ground
Ya’ shud also know t’was so termendus it made a big sound,
Cuz whiter’n death, with crystally spines ‘bout ten feet ‘round,
‘N the flake fell kerplunk on Jos, who ain’t never been found.
Ya see it was so big ‘n heavy tha’ it covered hisself complete
From Graham’s store to Jos’ house thar’ way ‘cross the street.
Wen it lit it bounced en’ tore up the street sumpin’ purty good
Right where, at the end the new road, ta’ halty sign usta stood.
We hadda real fancy big funeral in Glacier town next day
Near everbudy turned out ta’ hear the ridin’ preacher say
Tha’ ‘twas clear ta’ snowy flake was god’s will sure enough
With other preachy things he said sorta solemn ‘n gruff.
Spite’a that we sure certain gonna bury Jos good ‘n neat
Right here in ta’ middle old Glacier’s town’s main street
‘Bout where snow flake flew in ‘n ripped a deep big ditch
Thar, when ta’ flake melts, we’ll dig a little grave nitch,
So tha’ we can ‘member ol’ Jos not only for time ever more,
But there right close to ‘nother beer at Graham’s gen’al store. §
Tabernacle
by Phil Hanson
They stream up ribbons of asphalt to the height above where rests,
Snow trimmed mountains graced with trees, blue sky, and bird’s nests.
Through alleys of trees they travel as along a path to a silent church,
The road serving here a panoramic view, and there breathless lurch.
On weekends many travel here trying to drive to the skies,
Where a perspective, in distance, unfolds to workaday eyes.
In a sense they come here to worship as at a temple on a hill
Where the eagle glides quietly on the wind, and the earth is still.
No choir there sings them a song, nor cures any vital illness,
Congregation only of sky, rocks, and snow in eternal stillness.
Yet, they come here to worship at a lofty cathedral of the mind,
Perhaps peace, or vision, or impulse to renew life or love to find.
They race up to mountain heights on a brief summer’s day,
Knowing beforehand they can only visit briefly, not stay,
They may only lounge or walk while yet lasts the daylight
Watching, as they will, the setting sun hasten the night. §
