Appalachian Night

the bobcat's caterwaulin'

the old dogs whimpering

the children like kittens cuddle

Mamaw tossing and turning,

timber settling in the stove

captured by young, yellow licks

another night in the cabin 

another night in the sticks.

out in cool-stone darkness

beyond the kitchen door

springs trickling through the holler

slipping slowly forward

like the old man that left them

thinking there was something more

bent on leaving lonesome water

bent on leaving feeling poor.

you can run away to the flat lands

where the money flows like grain

and the rent is more than what you make

and that food tastes all the same

you can leave that lonesome water

and mountain folk are out of sight

but you'll never find another place

like an Appalachian night.