Saturday, September 5, 2015

West Liberty Backroads

The leaves held secrets,
Words that buried
The sins of a late Fall
Between the rough brown
Edges of Dogwood and Pinecone,
Each hard-edge syllable
A rough palm-clasp
That couldn’t quite reach
Into forbidden places;
Country roads and rolling hills
Carrying us into a labyrinth
Of Appalachia and dead Meadow Flox,
The sweet smell of something changing,
An invisible thing to wish upon
As each curve rose up to reach
The rusty reels of your Oldsmobile,
They hugged the road like talons,
Twisting just beyond the quick-drilled
Caves and earth-holes,
Wishing wells of dead coal miners.
The drive was always a nostalgic,
Tight-chested lip-breath,
And the pot-holes between the
lineless roads would quake
my lungs and roll my heart
around like a lost pebble
from one of those dangling
roadside rock-slides just waiting
for the right wind to happen.

Written for a prompt at  Pink.Girl.Ink.


  1. Stacy, you really have a way with words, a way with describing a setting with all its details. "Wishing wells of dead coal miners" - Whew!

  2. When the right wind comes...oh, I don't want to think of it!

    West Liberty. Are we talking Morgan County, Kentucky? Just curious. I used to live there many years ago.

    At the Dead Man’s House

    1. yes, it is the same one!
      small world!
      i live in johnson county, very close to morgan.

  3. Beautifully written, I could see that is always so nice to see you in the Pantry, kiddo!

  4. I love the idea of leaves keeping secrets ~ what a colorful drive this was on a beautiful country road.

  5. Even without other traffic those country roads are still tricky with minds of their own. Loved it.

  6. I really like the backstory you hint at, the death of countryside, the changes that make the trip nostalgic. Around a bend in the road I expect an almost ghost town where you can stop and look at flaking paint...

  7. love the visual quality of this beautiful poem...

  8. What a beautiful poem...the image and the metaphor are striking and i particularly liked - quake
    my lungs and roll my heart -

  9. There is a certain nostalgia to your piece. It reminds me of running 220 my first year out of college to get home and see my girl. The sick sweet smell like change, like death . I also like the small pebble because it makes me think of keeping one in the shoe so we remember.

  10. Wonderful writing! Some indelible lines of poetry in this piece.


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