Contributed by MARCIA PHILBRICK.

Boot Hill

On old Boot Hill the breezes blow,
And stir the sparse dry grass.
While underneath the old bones lie,
Unconscious that they pass.

Long days ago these bones were men,
Courageous, strong and daring.
Who worked hard, played hard, drank and dealt
Nought for tomorrow caring.

Gaily they rode o'er the rolling hills
Rounding up the cattle.
Cheerfully brand a maverick,
Or with horse thieves give battle.

Next on Boot Hill a school house rose.
And children shout and play,
Unthinking, o'er the graves of those
For ever passed away.

Now a fair building crowns the Hill,
With stately Spanish lines
Linking up the stirring past,
With busy modern times.

There our City Government
Shall henceforth make known its will.
The bones of the lawless upholding the lawn
On historic old Boot Hill.

~Josephine Winifred Hammond Crawford

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