South of Asheville in October
Ninety Minutes, Nine Days
Ninety minutes ago I left my home
Winding and curving my descent to I-40 Eastbound where I’ll spend much of the day
Tires on the pavement, already monotonous
Passing Asheville I glimpse a parting view of our mountains
Deep purple silhouette
From every ridge white wisps of sprite-like cloud reach upward
Absorbed into the new day......
Like a lacy shawl over the chilly shoulders of the Blue Ridge.
I feel the magnetic tug.
This vision will be mine nine hours from now when I unpack my car
The magnetic pull will nudge every day I am away.
Nine days from now
I will pass this place again on I-40 Westbound
Passing Asheville my first glimpse of our mountains
I’ll know that in my absence fall arrived in full
The silhouette painted crimson red
Hickory and Poplar pinned gold brooches to the breast of our mountain.
She is stunning.
The magnet pulls from the core of the mountain to the inner core of me
Tires on the pavement hum
Near breathless with anticipation
Winding, curving my ascent begins
Back up to the plateau I call home
hidden deep in the Blue Ridge