Within the arms of Appalachia
Those hills that will never die
Among the skies of our humble seasons
In knowing we must always try
Looking forward to better places
Those meanings within our lives
In the simplicity of simple sorrows
Our Appalachia always survives
Like the roots of a steady forest
Mountains that will never grow old
In all of the vibrancy before us
Through the stories we’ve all been told
The many mysterious creations
By the mists that were crossing those hills
In the stories about our humanity
By a spirit that always wills...
-Kirke Wise
Clarion, PA
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