Sitting on a log
This morning
Trying to fan
The smoke of wet firewood
Into a tolerable flame

Nice lady walked by
And asked
"Where is your blanket? "

My what?

"Your blanket,"
She said
"To send all the smoke signals.

I had to laugh.

I only send mixed
Signals

Especially to white men

they laugh
because i want to know
all the weeds by name

and when they overhear me
talking to the plants
in the garden

it isn't enough to know
a plant
by name and purpose

or to be able to carry on
half a conversation

i have to know all the seasons
and stages

and guess what might
be lurking
under those leaves

I wonder, sometimes,
if this is how
our Creator feels

And I sit reviewing my week

I dyed my linen petticoat
With cherry bark
And iron oxide.
I have five colors now.
Almost enough
For a box of crayons.

I pulled weeds
And planted garlic chives
And two kinds of gourds.

Hoed the garden
In between rains.

Baked biscuits
Twice.

Picked old Bob
A bag full of kale.

Spun some yarn.

Ground corn meal
With a big stick.

Pulled more weeds.

Started cleaning
And drying
Chicory root.

And more stuff
I can't remember.
No wonder I am
Tired.

sadness washes over me
like sweat on a hot summer's day in the South

air is thick with grief and yet my heart sings

my heart sings songs of love as I hold my daughter
and as I reach out my hand to help the new guy

Life is full even as I walk through grief and for that I am truly grateful.

my heart longs for cool nights back home in the mountains, where the fire flies dance and bull frogs sing

living life like a photograph
I am captured in that moment
a record of images of the past
the black and white of atonement

the negatives scroll through my mind
by now, I guess I get the picture
a flash frame from that place in time
on this wall, I am a fixture

living life like a photograph
it's on my wall, then I own it
a snapshot of images of the past
a still frame of atonement

Nothin' hurts like heartache
a longin' that you just can't break

Woman, you did me wrong
I am gonna mend my ways

I ain't been home in so long,
never to dance with your hips swayin'

Let me go home where I belong
back to the mountains of Appalachia,
where cicadias sing and
women are sweet like moonshine

he comes out of the woodwork
every five to seven years
(maybe he's a locust)

usually when he's lonely
or *****
or wants to blow his brains out

he kicked the drug *****
out of his trailer
(he overheard
her cheating thoughts)
and so
she went back to his brother

it was a nice visit
he complimented me maybe,
he said i'm not man crazy anymore

I think maybe
he's made his last appearance
in my story

if he doesn't know me
in twenty two years
well, I don't have
the experience to compete
with his latest conquests

I went out this morning
to clear the cobwebs
off the walking path
though truth be told
it was too cold for spiders.
The plants and trees
were more or less
hospitable.
That one **** spit
seeds at me --
will have to remember
to learn his name later.
The pawpaw trees
are looking well.
I greeted all the ones
on my level.
The violets winked.
A woodpecker drummed.
There were no still waters--
but I swear,
He restoreth my soul.

Somedays this whole
that I don't feel
is like a hole
that needs filling.
An empty space
that won't let go.
Another place I find
myself in that's growing old.
But that's the highway
talking, because
if I was a walking
man I would have gone
home a long time ago.

I am thirsty
Calm waters, bubbles galore
Swallow fast
Sip it slow
Picking raspberries in late June
Warm juices running along ****** fingertips
On the cusp of homemade wine season
I cannot get enough
Stained mouth hungry for more
Along my lip's edges I can taste your smile
Sunshine light with a hint of bright
I want to drink with you
Share with you
Get loose and fuzzy
Ready to fill your cup with more
Swinging away in breezy hammocks
Drunk on each other
Drunk on summer

As I sit atop this Appalachian mountain
Watching the sun rise
Seeing lights reflection dance on the lake
Nature's bounty dazzles my eyes
The cardinal nests in a tree beside
He too, waits for the morning star
Being so close to the sky above
Making heaven seem not so far
Winters frost makes everything shine
As it has covered the frozen ground
Like an Angel has come straight from above
And thrown glitter all around
The moon says her daily goodbye
Slowly starts to fade away
And behold, the sun peeking over the horizon
Ready to light the day