The Morning After the Haying
Raw-armed after a day of hoisting bales from the shorn field to the flatbed trailer, having paced in the diesel-thick wake
Musings of a Postmodern Hill Witch
I come from a long line Of witchy women: Tea-leaf readers, Prophetic dream havers, Deliverers of babies
A Pair of Appalachian Poems By Savannah Sipple
South Fork lives in the shadows of mountains just big enough to mine, like that shady spot in the woods where you used to build your forts. He carries a Bible for protection, and a pistol