Folk

I come from mountain Folks Hillbilly trash you might say Who bore winters colder than your stare Built lives on mountain sides In cracks and crevices worked the land Bringing life from stone Whose bodies may have broken But their spirits never died So they got up again And again Three times grandma’s back broke … Continue reading Folk

Flying Free

They thought your trips and stumbles were the sign, the end was near, and whispered as you walked that the angel of Death had given you a fright. No one saw how the angels held your arm and let you stand, Walking straight and true with dignity and grace. Or how they whisper that everyone … Continue reading Flying Free