There's a yarn in every coulee

there's a song in every rill;

The legends of the pioneers;

The Spirit of the Hills.

 

First came the Evil Spirits,

up the trail from Benton's span;

"Rot-gut" from the whiskey traders

out to spoil the bold Peigan.

 

Then the Redcoats out of Dufferin

on the Trail of Seventy-Four;

Smashed Fort Whoop-Up, hanged the outlaws,

blazed new trails, and brought the Law.

 

Then came Longhorns from Montana,

come to graze the buffalo's home;

With them cowboys, merchants, nesters

here to bust the sandy loam.

 

Then those policeman, cowboys, farmers

put down roots; cried "Here to stay!"

And their children and grandchildren

like as not are here today.

 

There's a yarn in every coulee,

There's a song in the rill;

The leavings of the pioneers,

The Spirit of the Hills.

 

Sherm Ewing - 2010

 

Sherm was a long-time rancher in the hills and wonderful friend.

We hosted a music, art and poetry gathering and he wrote this poem in commemoration of "Spirit of the Hills".