Elegy for the Appalachian Summers of My Childhood
Elegy for the Appalachian Summers of My Childhood
For the smell of honeysuckle & the itch of poison ivy,
for the sun-baked sweat stains on the armpits of our tank tops.
For the bumpy toads that blinked at us as we clutched them
& the slimy ones that slipped from our fingers. For the July fourth
festival with the local orchestra’s “Star-Spangled Banner,”
violin bows bobbing like our fathers’ fishing lines. For the sparse fireworks—
our dandelions dissolving in the sky. For the cracked alley
whose potholes we filled with pebbles & the house next door
whose peeling paint we couldn’t help but pick. For the neighborhood
cats that tangled around our ankles & the barking of mutts
& beagles that greeted us behind every fence. For when the world
only stretched up as many hills as I could pedal on a 90-degree day.
For the problems only as big as a bee sting or a sandbox
left uncovered. For the sandcastle I formed before the storm.
Bethany Jarmul is an Appalachian writer and poet. She’s the author of a poetry collection, Lightning Is a Mother and a mini-memoir, Take Me Home. Her work has been published in many magazines including Rattle, Brevity, and Salamander. Her writing was selected for Best Spiritual Literature 2023 and Best Small Fictions 2024, and has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize, The Best of the Net, Best Microfiction, and Wigleaf Top 50. Raised in West Virginia, Bethany has lived in the Pittsburgh area since 2014. Connect with her at bethanyjarmul.com or on social media: @BethanyJarmul.
