Praise for the Great Shattering of Appalachia

Lately, when someone asks me how I’m doing, the only word that comes to mind is shattered. 

I drive across town, and I am shattered over and over. I cry as I pass scattered piles of livelihoods outside slanted or smashed homes and businesses. I cry as I kneel beside the river running along the wreckage of what was once my home, the scent of sewage waftin…