Opioids in the Holler
A Hunt Through Appalachia’s Broken Hills
We been huntin a long while now
Not for deer or bear
for somethin smaller
somethin that gets inside a person
and won’t let go
It started with pain
a back broke down in the mine
a hand crushed workin steel
a doctor sayin take one of these
and get some rest
Now the hollers are full of ghosts
walkin on two legs
lookin for a way back home
We search where the laughter used to be
by the river
behind the high school bleachers
in trailers with the lights still on at dawn
The hunt wears you thin
We pray in parking lots
and wait outside the jail
We pray names into the dark
hopin somebody hears
Every soul we save feels like spring
and every loss lays heavy as scripture
Sometimes one of em steps out of the fog
eyes clear
hands shakin
sayin I made it through
We wrap em up like kin
and thank God for the breath in their chest
This ain’t a hunt for killin
It’s a hunt for keepin
for bringin our people back from the edge
for chasin off the shadow
that opioids laid across these ridges
And long as there’s breath in these mountains
we’ll keep on huntin
About the Creator
Tim Carmichael
Let your becoming be louder than your fear, and your smallest steps become the road you once thought impossible to walk. An Appalachian poet and cookbook author my book Beautiful and Brutal Things is on Amazon, Link 👇
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