Echoes of Appalachia

Some places get into your bones. Appalachia is like that—and Bloodroot and Coal Dust is a book that knows it by heart.

This collection of poems doesn’t just talk about the mountains, the coal, the people—it lives there. These are poems that come from red dirt and long shifts underground, from porches where stories get passed down in quiet voices and strong coffee. They’re about the ones who stay, who remember, who carry the weight of the past and still manage to sing.

There’s beauty here, but it’s not polished or perfect. It’s the kind of beauty that grows in rough ground—like bloodroot pushing up through frost, or a song hummed at the end of a hard day. These poems aren’t trying to impress anyone. They’re just telling it how it is.

You’ll hear voices in this book—miners, mothers, old folks with good stories, lovers who’ve seen too much but still hope for more. There’s grit, yes. There’s grief. But there’s also tenderness, memory, and a deep, steady love for a place that doesn’t always love you back.

Bloodroot and Coal Dust isn’t trying to explain Appalachia to the world. It’s just telling the truth for the ones who already know it in their bones—and maybe for the ones who want to understand it a little better.

If you come from the hills, or if you’ve ever felt the pull of home in your chest, this book might feel like someone sitting down beside you and saying, “Let me tell you a story.” And it’s one worth hearing.

-Tim Carmichael