hub of mud

brown-rich       mound
the old men called living
what lies underground
car-bound and car-binded
down Athens-Boonesboro
Kentucky soil
southbound 75
slowly sinking into Palisade pit
I hated when they boom-and-blasted
the limestone ridges near home
the new cut slid away from itself
raw white       sharp 
weeping groundwater down its face
the old cuts 
rust-streaked      cedar root
on the breaches
vine let down 
the rock like hair
you can date a wound by its color
and here it is 
again          turned skyward
Kentucky soil 
deeper than the color
of pennies
of blood
underground hauled up 
to face the sky
 
it pains me
you know
to see you like this