Small Town – Badger Clark

By Badger Clark The circling cones of bison hide That made the village of the Sioux Rose near as high, spread near as wide, O little Western town, as you. But small-town sky lines all are great And small-town air is clear and sweet And small-town folk are friend and mate, Not flitting shadows on the street.

No smoke of factories uprolls; No market roars with shouted bids. The small-town’s finest fruit is souls; Its prized commodity is its kids. For while the city struts in pride And trumpets far its loud renown, The men who govern there, and guide, Are children of the little town. That is the small-town’s latent power - Some name upon its schoolroom page, The future hero of the hour, The future glory of an age.

It was always so; ‘t will always be - 164 Small-town, the great folk’s starting place. A small-town boy in Galilee Rerouted all the human race. Badger Clark (1883-1957) Author, lecturer, poet and South Dakota’s first Poet Laureate. His philosophical devotion to the idea of rugged individualism and his love for the great outdoors was reflected in his life and writings.

“Small Town” is typical of this devotion to Dakota and its friendly people.