still

by c. a. williams   Feb 9, 2017


rivers bend the smell of
smoke and mash –
copper-shaped vapours wash
onto the abstemious backwood

ploughing the scent from crumbling
deadfall;
indulgent Bobwhites flick at the
settling haze
ferreting out snails they
pursue the heady odour back
into the brush
to hide with it, store
their prizes

slow fires eat through the night
and trickle into
handmade jugs set
against the loam –

decades burned into
the wind, that familiar smell
smudged across Appalachian soil
like ash on a
bloodied brow

4


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Latest Comments

  • 1 week ago

    by PETER EDWARDS

    Such imagery here! Well done!

  • 1 week ago

    by Larry Chamberlin

    Wonder filled picture poem! I am originally from Tennessee and have seen backwoods stills (accidentally & dangerously) both there and in North Carolina. You pen a credible account of one with details superb.

    One question: is "abstemious" the best word choice?

  • 1 week ago

    by - Mr. Darcy

    Lovely work.

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