Smoky Blue Ridged Mountains

Hill patch blades rustle gently
Sun blood creeps to rest among
Such smoky blue ridged mountains
Night, crawling out from the holler's depths
Where some shadows make their home
The daylight, a passerby. Here, listen  
And ear to the bluest grass, slow
Longing echoes, hear, as ages ago
The mountain sound, constellates
Years in time's linen, crying out heavy    
Moon shine seeping through woodsmoke
Because the sun burnt out like a match
Such, in smoky blue ridged mountains