Appalachia

Appalachia

Oh, rushing waters and sliding mud, 
     ground giving way,
          Mother Nature having her way;

Night black as ink,
     death, decay, and stink;

Towns consumed by roaring wind,
     deep cracks in the earth;
          River banks swelling and giving birth

To a flood we won't know again
     for a thousand years.
          Helene, you brought hell on Appalachia.

You have won the battle, yes, but the war belongs to us.
     Grit, resilience -- they are our birthrights,
And these lands you tried to claim as your own
     have the names of our families in them sown.

Death, you have stung,
     but our arising has now begun.
These hills will go on to glow in colors bright and bold
     to make way for the new as we honor the old;

For we are not who you say we are.

Written by Jamie Prince
October 8, 2024