Dad was born in Southeastern Kentucky, in the heart of Hatfield country. Grandma Hatfield lived down there, and when we would visit, my sister and I and a bunch of cousins would pile into an uncle’s pickup truck to go places, rollin’ round those old corkscrew mountain roads and having a blast 🙂
I may not have been born in the mountains, but my sister and I spent a lot of time there, as you may remember from my poems about our visits to Grandma Hatfield’s house. Those mountains remain in my spirit and my soul, and reside in my DNA!
The childhood memories I hold need space to move around on the page, to reveal themselves. Therefore, I have decided to start a project writing poems based on events from childhood, chiefly poems of time spent in Kentucky, West Virginia, and Maine, with family. This photo is a rough draft of a poem about BlackberryContinue reading “Remembering: a Project”
For my great-grandma Ratliff…. (Photo by my father, Lowell D. Hatfield)