A Forgotten Town Poem by Harry Gum

The stones now mark where our ancestors lay

The town like its creators now lies silent.

The whistle of the engine still sounds throughout the small country town we call home.

As the year on the calender changes and our cemataries grow larger, we each pass down the story of Cass that was passed to us by our parents and grandparents..

Each story told by us brings a bit of our town back to life.

Whether it be a smile, laugh, tear, or just a small nod of a head. When telling the story of the town forgotten by time.

You can still pass by the silent mill, empty house or deserted playground. You can match the dates on your families tombstone and smile knowing these are where their memories lay

.....in this forgotten town.

HP Gum III