Friday, August 27, 2010

A Poem by John F. Keener

Migration

I dream of mountains where I don't live
And scarce recall but for old connections
Circled round, made course corrections
And put down here, so here I live

I dream of roads where I don't walk
Ones that go slender on the senses
Sweetened along by rot-sweet fences
But my feet are here, so here I walk

I dream of jobs that I don't work
And never could, the good Lord knows
For money grows where money grows
And its roots run here, so here I work

I dream of places I don't belong
Not precisely, not anymore
And even if I did before
I belong here now, and that's what's wrong

from the Appalachian Journal 26:2 (Winter 1999)

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

Mate. This blog is amazing. How can I make it look this good ?

David Hampton: said...

Thanks. Blogging is really quite easy once you sign on to it. It's an ongoing process to build any site, but it's so much easier to create and maintain a blog site than a traditional web site, and serves the same purpose.

Anonymous said...

Wow! Thank you! I always wanted to write in my site something like that. Can I take part of your post to my blog?

David Hampton: said...

Sure, you are welcome to post this poem on your own site if you wish. Just be sure to give credit to the poet and its original publication, and a short reference or link to my blog site would be great, too! Thank you, and happy blogging!

Anonymous said...

thanks amigo! great post!