a quiet clarion, appalachian
you are like the word, entity
you were born in blue mountains
populated with rows of old growth,
and violet butterflies
but you don’t live there presently
when you see the foothills you sigh in relief
you never have worry of sticking out at home
like someone standing a-corner at a dance
this that i hear is the rarely understood,
the dealer shuffling out so many accents of
so many places barely called home, and
what people will get to know about me
what, what will it be
the more you’ve wandered out to sing,
the more it sticks that
there is a big town word to describe a thing
there is a holler word to say “that’s a spring.” and
there are judges and juries that would break you,
to know where you flew in from.
i’ve seen the same.
you are fascinating.