I know these hills

The dirty, truck worn roads

These trees

I've seen a thousand times before

The mighty Ohio lazing in its bed

The barges make their way

Like clouds across the sky

Into locks no key will fit

The comely Appalachians

Less mountains than hills

Grip the weather like a lost lover

Force rainy skies to dwell

And these people

Worn faces from failed wars

On poverty, drugs and coal

Somehow more punchline than victim

more than hope depends

on the merciless weather,

changing just because.

but I will undress and stand

in rain and make love to time.

and we'll talk about

our matching outfits, and plan

for all the forecasts

we are longing to defy

with minds we lost to hearts.

Or maybe, we'll just stay in.