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Elegy at Beaverhead County, Montana “Oro y plata” My father fished here summers, scaled and cleaned His catch by the gray weathered fence that dips Into the river. Thin as a pine, he leaned Again to rinse the knife in chilling rips. The river is Missouri’s western source, So clear and shallow even stones and sand Under that sun seem golden in its course. Men came for gold and, failing, took the land. Sons of unsettled men sometimes remained To change the land through labor and design. He left, rejecting when he might have gained, But only found another ore to mine. His quiet lapsed to taciturnity, Slow anger to hard answers in a glance; Music alone and its brief gaiety, His father’s gift, remained from circumstance. For that rich butte in whose deep shaft he died, Where I first saw, as silver as its earth, Another stream flow west from the Divide, Gave to him nothing of its final worth.  You are reading copyrighted material published by Ohio University Press/Swallow Press. Unauthorized posting, copying, or distributing of this work except as permitted under U.S. copyright law is illegal and injures the author and publisher. ...

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