Where It’s Going, and Where It’s Been
Blackwater sits torn, divided—
between the Ohio and Potomac,
no room to grow,
no boundaries to call its own,
so it pushes north, then west,
winding recklessly, rejecting gravity
only to swan dive 57 feet,
fighting frozen to form the Falls.
It’s a long way down to the canyon,
but water keeps moving—no regrets,
because change is always messy.
Steady echoes softly erode stone—
reclaiming Canaan Valley, resisting
solid even in the harsh bite of winter.
Soon, it will join the Mississippi,
leave pieces of itself in humidity,
spill into the Gulf of Mexico.
Even now it remembers the urge to leap,
twisting the body to climb five salt box stories,
fractures ingrained,
like soot stains on a seasoned miner’s skin.
Miles away, it knows the mountain spring is home,
a necessary part of identity, which fills the cracks.
Rising up into the atmosphere, its journey begins again.
*
Andi Stout is an Appalachian writer and author of Pushcart-nominated, Tiny Horses Don’t Get A Choice. Her work has appeared in Mulberry Literary, Variant Literature, The Aerial Perspective, Northern Appalachian Review, Fire Poetry, Still: The Journal, among others. Andi earned her MFA at West Virginia University and lives in Pennsylvania.