cold morning

coal county west virginia

photographs in columns black

thirty dead and they’re still counting bodies

thirty dead and they’re still

calling us inside

they’re calling us inside

i saw my father at the breakfast table

i saw my brother flipping pages

wiping hands and getting black soot on the china

wiping hands and getting black soot

but do not raise your voices

do not raise your voices

cold morning in west virginia

cold morning in my twin size bed

cold morning when my mother heard the door talk

cold morning with the soot upon their heads

so do not raise your voices

oh do not raise your voices