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“Our memories and the songs that carry them forward to the next generations speak to the manner of where we have come from, construct the framework by which we measure our place.”
―
―
“The way the truth of it hits you
is less white-lighting whisky
more the slow arrival of fall
in a place that knows little
of hard, dug-in winters. Here
we are southerners playing
North, Appalachians denying
everything by the salvation
of the Lord, folks running from
those people everyone tries
to make us be. Daylight bends
through the trees and steady
songs of birds we cannot see.”
― This City at the Crossroads
is less white-lighting whisky
more the slow arrival of fall
in a place that knows little
of hard, dug-in winters. Here
we are southerners playing
North, Appalachians denying
everything by the salvation
of the Lord, folks running from
those people everyone tries
to make us be. Daylight bends
through the trees and steady
songs of birds we cannot see.”
― This City at the Crossroads
“Because history begins
by hammering chalk lines
onto sand and clay and only
stops when the last bank of lights
goes out for another prairie winter.
Yet, this summer night falls into
the white steady burn of streetlights
against a heavy ageless Indiana night.”
― This City at the Crossroads
by hammering chalk lines
onto sand and clay and only
stops when the last bank of lights
goes out for another prairie winter.
Yet, this summer night falls into
the white steady burn of streetlights
against a heavy ageless Indiana night.”
― This City at the Crossroads
“Concession to concession, this night
is ours. With lots of blueprint houses
burning their brick-base settler dream
into the land Tecumseh died for.”
― Big Medicine Comes to Erie
is ours. With lots of blueprint houses
burning their brick-base settler dream
into the land Tecumseh died for.”
― Big Medicine Comes to Erie
