The lost can stay lost down here, <br />in laurel slicks, false-pathed caves. <br />Too much too soon disappears. <br /> <br />On creek banks clearings appear, <br />once homesteads. Nothing remains. <br />The lost can stay lost down here, <br /> <br />like Tom Clark's child, our worst fears <br />confirmed as we searched in vain. <br />Too much too soon disappears. <br /> <br />How often this is made clear <br />where cliff-shadows pall our days. <br />The lost can stay lost down here, <br /> <br />stones scattered like a river <br />in drought, now twice-buried graves. <br />Too much too soon disappears, <br /> <br />lives slip away like water. <br />We fill our Bibles with names. <br />The lost can stay lost down here. <br />Too much too soon disappears.<br /><br />Ron Rash<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/in-dismal-gorge/
