By: Lisa C. (IrishHillbilly) + 8 more
Date Submitted: 4/26/2007
Last Updated: 4/26/2007
Genre: Biographies & Memoirs » Regional U.S.
Words: 153
Rating:

She’s never been here before
To see the golden dome
Cool marble hallways
In the midst of grounds scattered
With stiff bronze men
Of glory and defeat

A sea of faces, bodies swarming
Bees flitting hither and yon’
To hear the sounds of their heritage
Banjoes, fiddles, dulcimers and guitars
Singing their songs of yesterday
Preservation of hope
For the vanishing mountains of coal

Faces and hands creased by age
And the knowledge of West Virginia life
Strings pressed and taughtened
As fingers bend and fly
Caressing the wood worn by use
Warmed by the May sun

A whale of a tale, liar, liar, pants on fire
Promenades left, then do-si-doe
To the cadence of the Indian drum
Pulsing old and new
Nike ball cap restraining an ebony braid
A back plumed with feathers
Mocassin clad feet pound
Into the meticulously mown lawn

It is life customs and lore
Not withering away but celebrated
And strong, it’s in the blood,
Rooted and growing
A memory of who we were
A glimpse of who we are
A portent of who we will become

© LSF
May 28, 2002

The Eclectic Pen - Vandalia Gathering 2002

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