I watch these documentaries
About East Of the Mississippi Legends
Like Popcorn Sutten and D Ray White
The sound of Hank III on lonesome guitar
Or perhaps the pleading pull of sad violin
A tear slips as I too remember
When I used to be Wild
Running barefoot through dew drenched grass
I want to breathe that air again
The air of the Wild
They live on through fan or family
Each has lit a fire
Some under copper stills
Others on the heals of mountain dancing shoes
Smoke continues to roll out from under those of us affected
Our eyes searching each rain for more of the same
Boone County is beautiful
Something  to write home about
All in one these  coal stripped mountains are a larger than life package
That will steal your very breath
Replacing it with back woods romance
Late night campfire stories
Not to mention the heady fragrance of Paw Paw perfume
I grew up nestled between the Appalachia
Lush valley of the Shenandoah
I thought I knew what mountains were

I was wrong.