there are new silhouettes in
this farm field at night now
and I hope that the shapes of

digits on this farmhouse clock
face tell of times the old
storms rolled through ‐ when

lightning lashed out at the
propped up pole beans – back
when the wolf tree over the



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spring was just a tulip poplar
pup ‐ mist fell on the Wetzel
bottom ‐ marched through like

musket smoke ‐ long rifles
crack closer than thunder
calling the boys with puffs of

black powder out to cringe at
the coming Osage ‐ hard as
orange wood bent into long

bows and strong as sinew
strings ‐ quiet dark now
crept up like coming rain

 

About the author:

Chad Burrall was born and raised in Wheeling, and comes from ancestors going back to the Wetzels, Bonnets, McCrearys, and Coffields of Big Wheeling Creek. He recently placed in several categories in the WV Writers Contest, has been published in several poetry anthologies. He can usually be found enjoying some of Wheeling’s great local songwriters or fly fishing as remote a stream as he can currently get away with… Chad is currently working on his first full length book of poems and can be reached at cburrall@comcast.net.



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