cold porch lights chase
me thirty miles per hour
downhill to the Ohio past
bison in greasy fields
old company town hollow
filled by skinny creek
run full of yellow dog
seeps out back behind a
mine store slumped sick
grasping some wet glyphs
left by cold sweat drinks
nicks dug into worn wood
counters that clattered scrip
collectible yet worthless
punched through the heart
when folks walked in
out of the woods
out of the fields
between the coal seams
within the pale
sold lives for pay
bought some comfort
for a short while
got shut back out
when portals closed
deep roots yanked
from ripped up earth
big dishes on roofs above
empty ones on tables
will we ever learn the
fortunes held in farms?
do we ever get very
far above our raising
before they beat us
back down to the ground?
Editor’s Note: This editor met Chad at the July 13 (Grateful) Dead and Company concert. Are you interested in contributing to Weelunk? Please email us at weelunk@weelunk.com.
Image provided by wikiart – Vincent Van Gough’s “Country Road”
