Who’s girl are you?
The old timer will ask,
But, this here rock don’t 
need no family name
to place my shaved hair
and tattooed skin
in this holler,
where I belong.
Always did.

This here rock won’t say,
“Well now,” or
“That so,”
when I say
I’m Mike Hansel’s girl.
Luther Johnson’s granddaughter,
owned the Cowshed Trading Post.
Remember Barbara Mullins?
Worked at the Board of Education.
That’s my grandmother.

No, this here rock and me,
we know we’re carbon copies
damp and blue out of the press.
Stamped with time,
and a permanency
that predates names.