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 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. Share this:Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)Click to share on Reddit (Opens in new window)Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window)Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window)Click to share on Pocket (Opens in new window) Leave a Reply Cancel ReplyYou must be logged in to post a comment.