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A Hardscrabble Life
Granny, hunched over the woodstove –
I smell fatback frying in cast iron,
Scents of morning in the Blue Ridge Mountains
Along with hazy mists hanging across them,
Parting for the sunlight as it makes its way up
Over the hills that surround every heart
Living out life on hardscrabble roads of old times.
(By Regina McIntosh)
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