the feel of the top ridge
we spend the morning
in the high country of the Smokies,
where tectonics and weather
have left rock-hard ridges
high, cold, wet, and rounded with the flora,
we pull ourselves up and down the Appalachian top ridge,
the pull always more than I remember,
the spruce-fir feels friendly and inviting,
a July shower refreshes the ubiquitous moss
and fuels the soft greening
that suffuses the high woods,
our steps quicken with our mood,
sunbeams return and clouds whip past,
there is both an ancient feel and a new-born freshness
to these high woods this wet morning,
kind of like my body which feels its age
and my spirit that still feels exuberant.
by Henry H. Walker
July 12, ‘21
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