I'm a native born morning in Appalachia,
smoky mountains surround
my holy ground.
Life in a single-wide far from the road
never gets old.
nor do two ducks trying to mate
in my leaky rubber pool.
Yesterday's wine bottle is empty again
yet I pour myself out
sip the chill mist
light up, let the hot tobacco
heat the dew on my lips.
The birds are making a fuss.
The Blue heelers are whooping it up,
and the goats are high brawling.
Wife's gone to Cookeville
to work at Walmart,
says she ain't coming back.
Figure I’ll go back to bed,
rest my head till whenever,
drink a warm beer for breakfast.
Copyright © Eric Ashford | Year Posted 2022
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