With Love From Harlan
A truck heavy with coal,
Struggles up the incline.
Left turn signal blinks,
Says, “It’s safe to pass.”
Elk crossing, fallen rocks,
ATV on the highway.
No four-lane road,
Comes in or out.
Even in a town
Called Lynch,
Everything is equal
Down in the mines.
2 thoughts on "With Love From Harlan"
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I love the various layers–the steep hill, the closing comment, the title–in this gem of a poem.
I feel like I can picture this scene…lovely descriptions!