Skip to main content

West Virginia Is

by Lilah Coe

West Virginia is 

the blue mountains,
hazy in the distance, 

the first bite of a blackberry,
fresh from a prickly vine, 

a mother,
falling apart, stumbling,
her children reaching for needles, 

the twinkle of fireflies in the twilight,
dancing and flickering to a silent melody. 

West Virginia is 

a river rushing past,
a force unto itself,
wild and free, 

a shaken father,
figuring out how to explain to his family,
that he won’t be going to work tomorrow, 

the dusty streaks of coal,
rich ebony gold,
like jewels on a miner’s crown. 

West Virginia is 

the stunning trees in autumn,
the vibrant reds and soft yellows,
the fiery oranges and brittle browns, 

sun-kissed skin,
golden brown from the heat of sleepy summer days, 

a tired dog,
waiting by the door,
for an owner, who had passed years ago, 

the rich heritage,
a tapestry of stories,
interwoven throughout the land and the people. 

West Virginia is 

a family,
knit together by the threads of love, faith, fellowship,
and home-cooked meals 

a forest,
once singing with the melody of life,
now silenced by man’s smothering touch. 

the charm of a southern accent,
the words dripping like sweet honey,
friendly and familiar. 

West Virginia is 

and always will be,
my home,
forever and always.