Poetry

She was flowers A cast iron drawl There’s only one way she got by I still haven’t found it I remember her chicken pie But not a thing she...

When I close my eyes it’s May I see its clear and changed The buzz of a stihl chainsaw In the woods where we would play I learned to be...

It’s the coming down The fear of the bottom Less than that of the fall They sold out the hollers Cashed in the pension Of life labored...

The power of man is hardly the first thing that comes to mind in the eye of a hurricane. As it flings and wrings Appalachia, of all...

We’re on our way home to you You powered us through war and peace Given home to us And suffered thieves Bore the brunt The weight Of...