Mountain Memory

One spring day a friend, Karen and I were in Cades Cove taking in the visual glory  always found there. She proposed we take Parsons Branch Road as a different way out. Located just beyond the gift shop and grist mill, Parsons Branch is a one way, narrow, winding, eight miles long road. 

I don’t write poetry, but the memory of this rough beautiful ride came out in poetic style. 

Parsons Branch Road

A one way passage
over the gap,
connects Cades Coves
to the mighty Dragon.

Rough enough to make
a four-wheel drive buck;
quiet enough to satisfy
the longing for solitude.

Treasures hidden
by thick undergrowth,
concealed, except for the fluttering wing
of a ruffed grouse,

The rapid movement
of a black racer
disappearing over a log.

Silent hills absorb the sounds,
a redbird’s call,

water rushing,
tires clicking.

Flame azalea nestle
under yellow poplar
with Bowman’s root
and Black Cohosh.

Mossy logs reveal
layers of life
ready to become
captured memories.

Sunlight and pavement
appear, creating the end
of Parsons Branch Road.