cold porch lights chase
me thirty miles per hour
downhill to the Ohio past
bison in greasy fields
old company town hollow
filled by skinny creek
run full of yellow dog
seeps out back behind a
mine store slumped sick
grasping some wet glyphs
left by cold sweat drinks
nicks dug into worn wood
counters that clattered scrip
collectible yet worthless
punched through the heart
when folks walked in
out of the woods
out of the fields
between the coal seams
within the pale
sold lives for pay
bought some comfort
for a short while
got shut back out
when portals closed
deep roots yanked
from ripped up earth
big dishes on roofs above
empty ones on tables
will we ever learn the
fortunes held in farms?
do we ever get very
far above our raising
before they beat us
back down to the ground?

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.

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Photo By Steve Novotney

 


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