By Degrees

This land was my grandfather’s; the mountains loom above
He took care of it with bare hands, confidence, and love,
But for years it has gone fallow, there’s no crops in the ground
We either had to starve, sell out, or move on out of town.

That’s about all I can tell you; these hills might have been my grave
But since the mines have opened up I’ve been working every day.
We’re digging up the land; we’re tearing down the trees.
We can move mountains like this—it’s only by degrees.

This town has grown around me; it’s such a brilliant sight.
I can go out dancing; streets light up on Friday nights.
The mine is our foundation, the bedrock of this place
—as if the painful times gone by could almost be erased.

But have you heard the rumors? We’ve dug out all the coal.
The company is bankrupt; it’s only just been sold.
They’re closing down the mine; they’re moving overseas
We can move mountains like this—it’s only by degrees.

I moved into the city; now I’m working when I can
When I go back and visit, sometimes it’s more than I can stand.
It looks like a war zone—barbed wire and broken glass
The rivers run muddy with poisons through the pass.
Nothing grows here but the dirt and nothing ever will.
And the trees will never grow back to shade this hill.

I will gather brush; build a fire into the night.
In the morning nothing’s left but morning light.
Wind will lift the ashes into swirling bitter black.
We can move mountains like this—but we’ll never get them back.
We can move mountains like this—but we’ll never get them back.

Copyright Tracy S. Feldman, All rights reserved