Mill River Flood: 7:30 am
No time even to saddle his horse, George Cheney fled the mountain, quick, galloping on a mission, and still Onslow Spelman wouldn't listen, still, he stood at the door of his factory of buttons, arguing the reality - the dam was breaking and disaster was coming, far faster than George Cheney ever could ride
(this poem is part of series of poems I aim to write as my village commemorates the 150th anniversary of The Mill River Flood of 1874. I am using the project's StoryMap – https://storymaps.arcgis.com/stories/407b6288771447afb2961988ef321fd4 — each pin of timed event will one small poem).