Kentucky Sunrise, taken through car windshield
Being Kentuckian is being
part of this dark earth, rooted
like the giant sycamore
down by the molasses mill.
It’s knowing self
is not established by realitly tv
or pronouncing “i” like eye,
but rather “ah”, a sense of wonder.
It’s holding onto old magic
long after the Global Community
says your faith is invalid,
your culture irrelevant.
It is determination
with a knife in her fist,
compassion in her eyes,
grace in her steps and steel
in her back.
It’s being part bobcat and bear,
having a love affair
with every mountain, tree,
stream and field, knowing
how to skin a deer, clean a fish,
fix a car, make a quilt,
play a musical instrument
and entertain with ease.
unwritten laws, unspoken nuances
outsiders never get, no matter how long
they stay. When you know Kentucky,
really know her, she gets in your blood,
haunts your dreams, like her mist haunts
these mountains, always rising
but never letting go