Dedicated to the James Still Cabin, Hindman Settlement School

Even before you were born. You were born, still
in the hills of Eastern Kentucky. You were dew-bound leaf
weighing a nearby tree and Mr. Still wrote something down
then looked up, straight into you, and you both knew you
before you were named. He practiced the naming.

That’s when anyone could have pointed you out
as what you really are; wild, untamed ribbon of creek,
leaf vein swinging, salty tear, beckoning wind. 

And now, again, at the desk that’s been waiting for you
since you moved into humanhood. Quiet in this house
built by the words of a woman.The nerve of Lucy Furman.
Sit still and listen until you see them where you were
You be the namer. It’s your turn to try to be tamed.