Appalachia


By Charles Springer

Under us
still
millions of mammals

millions
of years old
in the rock.

Even before sun's up,
chinking starts.
Old giants

come apart at their seams. Giants
with incisors and scales,
giants with molars and hair or fur, tails.

Cords of their long bones
are trucked down the highway
to museums.

Pieces
patch gaps
in timbers of shanties.

Above them, above rock,
clouds make themselves into mammoths
into moles into molecules     

rain
older than
rock.


Charles Springer has degrees in anthropology and is an award-winning painter. A Pushcart Prize nominee, he is widely published in the small presses. He writes from Pennsylvania.