By: Ardis E. Parshall - July 19, 2018 Handcart Trail By Vesta Pierce Crawford My boy, I walked across the plains,Where now the cars rush by;I walked across the barrier plains,Where now the airships fly! You cannot know how far it is,With hills and deserts whirling past;My steps have measured every rod,My body bedded on the sod! You cannot know how far it is;You hear the throbbing motor’s sound;I’ve listened to the cart wheels creak ...
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