After the mine’s veins were exhausted,
the town shriveled on the mountainside, skeletal, lonely.
Even the last holdouts had lost hope.
But then a surveyor broke through a passage to a long, thin chamber.
The sheriff grabbed the wild-eyed surveyor’s map,
blocking him from contacting his home office.
Alluring memories bloomed in those townsfolk’s minds
as they followed the sheriff into the mine’s mouth.
Only the two church women refused to follow.
They stood muttering warnings about an ancient visitation.
The townsfolk each saw the visitor in the chamber as an old friend,
rather than as a collector of minds.
Today you’ll find the few elderly inhabitants left from that time
to be free from much thought or speech.
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