By Joann Bolner-Thomas

I travel for miles anxiously approaching the small trail,
The base of the holler where my grandparents dreams availed.
I follow the dirt road that leads to a boarded up mine,
The coal industry that seen family through hard times.
I water a barren garden with my salty tears,
Standing behind the house broken down by years.
I pull open the rotten gate, hoping it wont fall apart,
I run my hand across a porch swing, feeling every beat of my heart.
I take a deep breath, the holler I smell,
The dust of the mines and dry water wells.
All grown over, this holler I adore,
Abandoned of all that was long before.
The holler empty, lonely and sad,
Void of the honor and pride it once had.
The past is gone, my children will never see,
Why this dirty abandoned holler will always be home to me.

Submitted By alan

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