Longing...

I went HOME
and I am longing,
aching
to return again.
Mornings of sweet sorghum dripping down cornbread
and evenings of a table fitted elbow tight
and brimming over with laughter.
Deep nights in an ancient four post under quilts.
My being warm against the bitter cold.

My family has lived in the hollers
and coves of western North Carolina
for nearly 300 years.
Cool spring water fills my veins
and my heart sings the wind in high ridge trees.


It has been a bountiful year
with the trees bending with plenty.


So much bounty that folks just can't haul off, store or eat anymore.

And yet there is more still to fall.

Ancient tree

to bear so much.

The moss is green, but don't be fooled.

It is 12 degrees at 9am.

Steve's gate.

May God rest his soul.

And little wisps caught

dancing in the morning light.