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Late October

Late October Marc Harshman Appalachian Heritage, Volume 32, Number 4, Fall 2004, pp. 42-44 (Article) Published by The University of North Carolina Press DOI: https://doi.org/10.1353/aph.2004.0019 For additional information about this article https://muse.jhu.edu/article/431040/summary Access provided at 19 Feb 2020 17:43 GMT from JHU Libraries Late October Hills folded in clouds. Gray light. Thinning at each horizon, north and south, the sky whitens. For going, a path. For staying, more words than I need. Through dark stands of old oak, without effort, the forest extends, deepens, twining shadows. Up, between the shouldering, interlocking hills a glance, a turning of leaves on a far ridge, wind. A dust of bee balm and bronze thistles persist on pasture slopes below beech and maple, hickory, poplar, and a few great ash—the fall's color gone to seer weedlife and browning brush. The deer path is clear but a tangle, nonetheless, of catching stick and thorn. The way is not for being clear, easy. 42 Through glistered woods I follow until rounding a crest: bells. Mysteries and signs. Traditions. Salem Church. Another path. Foot to frost-anchored stone to tussock and carefully to scree bank and up— larks breaking cover, white breaking sky. Stopped talking beside the creek: a http://www.deepdyve.com/assets/images/DeepDyve-Logo-lg.png Appalachian Review University of North Carolina Press

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Publisher
University of North Carolina Press
Copyright
Copyright © Berea College.
ISSN
2692-9244
eISSN
2692-9287

Abstract

Marc Harshman Appalachian Heritage, Volume 32, Number 4, Fall 2004, pp. 42-44 (Article) Published by The University of North Carolina Press DOI: https://doi.org/10.1353/aph.2004.0019 For additional information about this article https://muse.jhu.edu/article/431040/summary Access provided at 19 Feb 2020 17:43 GMT from JHU Libraries Late October Hills folded in clouds. Gray light. Thinning at each horizon, north and south, the sky whitens. For going, a path. For staying, more words than I need. Through dark stands of old oak, without effort, the forest extends, deepens, twining shadows. Up, between the shouldering, interlocking hills a glance, a turning of leaves on a far ridge, wind. A dust of bee balm and bronze thistles persist on pasture slopes below beech and maple, hickory, poplar, and a few great ash—the fall's color gone to seer weedlife and browning brush. The deer path is clear but a tangle, nonetheless, of catching stick and thorn. The way is not for being clear, easy. 42 Through glistered woods I follow until rounding a crest: bells. Mysteries and signs. Traditions. Salem Church. Another path. Foot to frost-anchored stone to tussock and carefully to scree bank and up— larks breaking cover, white breaking sky. Stopped talking beside the creek: a

Journal

Appalachian ReviewUniversity of North Carolina Press

Published: Jan 8, 2014

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