DURABLE

We meet at the end
               of generations
               of pioneers
               here
               after 160 years,

               all related since
               that first local election
               cast by 27 men—

               the tie broken
               by a trapper
               from Dry Creek

               wined and dined
               at Nate Vise’s fort
               a week before the vote.

Mom and pop cow outfits and farmers,
we tend and claim our space—
               our own language
               and hands-on humor
               handed down
               by surviving

               miscalculations.
               More and more
               we lean on
               the old sayings
               we were raised
               to recite.

Most of what we know
               we learned
               the hard way

               about ourselves—
               but most of all
               we’ve learned to laugh
                              at change
                              at last.