Pamela Hirte

Across the hills over a blue lake,

An eagle soars within my shadow.

I reflect upon who I am,

An ancient mountain soul.

I am massive. I am old. I am Appalachia.

 

Home is woodlands, wildflowers, and whitetail deer,

I live deep within every ridge and valley.

Hickories shade sunlight from my forest floor.

Cool waters trickle downstream,

Aged memories float away.

 

I gaze downward at life below.

Rivers alive with fish and beaver,

Black bears binge on blueberries,

The hunter-gatherer savors his catch.

I am fertile, filled with life.

 

My hills hued like a rainbow.

Azalea drips with purple petals,

Ripe, red strawberries, sweetened by the sun.

I paint nature with every color of the universe,

I am wild, without constraint.

 

From rhododendrons bluebirds sing,

My heart beats an ancient rhythm,

Heaven, hear my humble hymn.

I reflect upon who I am,

I am massive. I am old. I am Appalachia.

 

Published in the "Common Threads" in the Ohio Poetry Association

January 2014