As I move my body upon the land
The rhythm of nature flows through my earth.
As my thoughts and words change, the clearer I see
Who I am and how I can be
A strong yet gentle, spiritual warrior
My words sing freedom and power to . . . Continue Reading
Over the sluggish Tennessee River
giant heron swoops and lands
like folded blue fabric . . .
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. . . shucking fresh corn
atop the shaded steps of the back porch
recounting childhood dolls with hair made from
the same silken threads I pulled from the husks . . . Continue Reading
Down at Mullens every porch has a puffed couch
or wooden rockers where locals sit for a spell
watching gravel trucks rumble on past
Coal Country Bar and Grill, always crammed . . . Continue Reading
The ghosts lie prostrate in the land
While I cross where berms were planned
As monuments to great last stands
And retreats tinged with shame.
Cannons cross at the Dead Angle,
Where North and South were once entangled
And Southern hope was slowly strangled.
Then . . . Continue Reading
. . . for now, I find shallow water
and sit on a rock facing west,
a creek exhilarates my bare feet
as it . . . Continue Reading
My father was coal dusted and bent from the mines
But he saw that I had a degree
He taught me to hold a jack rock as . . . Continue Reading
. . . on Sunday morning to church. The preacher was
half-way through his sermon, when I felt something
crawling on my back. Thinking it was a fly, I rubbed
my back and realized it was . . . Continue Reading
Her bare feet shoved into slip on shoes
A cigarette dangling from her lips.
Windows down, my . . . Continue Reading
Blessed be the small town girl
Who dreams of city lights,
Chinatowns, and . . . Continue Reading