Mountain Thirst

There is a thirst that cannot be satisfied
A hunger that pains the insides
Of mountain folks long separated
From hill,home and holler.
It lingers on our minds like
A daydream never forgotten
Like a teenager's first kiss
Dreamed of and never matched.
It rolls around on the tongue
And in the belly like the sweet
Taste of sourwood honey.

Life in the mountains is hard scrabble
Never forgotten, under-appreciated
A struggle that we love
Filled with remembrances
Of coal mines, tobaccer sheds
Saw mills, truck gardens
Seinin' for ginseng to buy
Shoes for a growin' youngin,
A dress for a worn out mama.
Or flowers to sit on the casket
Of the old man, shrunk down
And shriveled by the cancer
By black lung and bein' on
The government dole.

But it gets folks sort of thirsty
'Specially on a Friday afternoon
Wantin' to get in the car
Drive back home for a few days
To sit on ol' worn out porches
An' listen to the rain fallin'
On ancient tin roofs.

The Blizzard of 2008 - Blizzard with a capitol B. is upon me and I am so weary of being indoors. It is the worst in March ever, I am told. The only one I remember being worse is from 1977 when I was in Harrodsburg, Kentucky.

I walked to the end of our neighborhood, down to a tree line to sit under a big oak and watch the snow falling in a cornfield. Vainly I hoped to see deer, or perhaps a lone coyote wandering through in search of food. As I sat the snow was so very heavy. I couldn't see more than 500 feet.

It was wonderful, mystic and scary at the same time. I walked a path that normally would take me 5 minutes... it took nearly 15 to walk down and 20 to walk back. I couldn't see my path on the return trip. I thought of those brave mountain folk who settled the hills of Appalachia, those ancestors of mine who braved the trip and for some reason loved the rough mountains rather than going to the plains of Ohio or the Bluegrass. I used to wonder why they would have their barns so close to their cabins. Today as I reflected, I realized that it served a good purpose, a barn, shed or outbuilding needed to be close in weather such as this. In the short half mile I walked, I found myself off the street and into a backyard before I knew I had wandered. What if they had to make a trip out to get more firewood, to milk or feed livestock? A hundred yards could mean danger on a day like today.

I would love to be in my cabin in the mountains just now. I would sit and watch out the window at the snow, wondering what the world was doing as I sat warm from my stove. Perhaps I would make some bean soup on the top of the stove, letting it simmer for hours. Perhaps I would walk, as I did today, to see the glory of the woods round that little cabin.

Or perhaps I would dream.

I still am not ready to give up easyjournal for my story blog, but want to get more involved here to strengthen my online presence as a storyteller. To read my stories - several years worth, you can go to www.mountainstories.easyjournal.com. I have several years of stories, old ragged verse and musings on easyjournal.

This year is the big double nickles for me - 55 on March 16. I haven't been doing as much storytelling as I would like, sometimes I would love to take the cue from several friends in the storytelling community and go full time. It is just not my time to do that yet... kids in school, mortgage, etc.

I am amazed that my first post on here is 2002.

More later... life calls

Autumn Song

I revel in the fall.
I shout at the hills
Telling them it is here.
I want to dance
Through the hollers
Down the weary paths
Round the oak and hickory
Singin' the trees a lullaby
Tellin' them to rest, sleep
Wake up in the spring.
I want to reel and waltz
Round an' round
The mountain laurel
Down the deer trail
Twirlin' about
As the mornin' mist
And multicolored leaves
Swirl round my dancin' feet
As the clefts an' rises
Echo my call
Repeat my song
It is fall.

Necklace

Simple spiderweb
Damp with dew
Glistens like diamonds
On a necklace
On a backdrop
Of midnight blue sky
Hanging just beneath
The sleepy moon.