Sunlight pulling up stakes
in late afternoon--
peeling back from the peaks--
letting shadows slat down
into the scree-shattered valleys
of old Slumach's broken land
where once he stalked wild as the cliff goats--
found the mine no man would strike again--
toted out the gold that fired a legend--
drank himself deranged in New Westminster--
took a white whore for his woman--
slew the man who sought his secret--
died with it in the Queen's gallows
leaving just his angry ghost to prowl
those devil's clubbed wastes luring
greedy unwary searchers to disaster
etc.
etc.
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