POETRY

In the Smokey Mountains

By

She was an orchid by a mountain pass,
along an Appalachian trail of blue.
He was a hemlock near the cotton grass,
with crooked branches, needles, limbs askew.
At twilight, they'd admire the dazzling way
celestial bodies filled the void with sparks--
both disillusioned by the glaring day,
unsatisfied with melodies of larks.
She wrapped her leaves around his trunk until
they grew together, some say it was fate.
He kept her shaded for a summer--till
the sky became too heavy of a weight.
By autumn, vines and roots joined in a wreath,
that dried with broken pine cones underneath.

Karen Kelsay, native of Orange County, is the owner of Aldrich Press and White Violet Press, two indie presses that publish formalist and free verse poetry. Her poems have been published in a variety of journals including: Mezzo Cammin, The Nervous Breakdown, Triggerfish Critical Review, Tipton Poetry Journal, and String Poet.

She was an orchid by a mountain pass,
along an Appalachian trail of blue.
He was a hemlock near the cotton grass,
with crooked branches, needles, limbs askew.