Enticed
by the soft pine-needle floor,
I trace the ridgeline
upon a whisper of a trail
where the ghosts of Indigenous peoples
chip arrow and ax heads from the blue flint
and drink from old hidden springs.
Here,
amidst the sable vested trunks
of black locusts towering,
beneath the mighty hemlocks
stabbing skyward,
bone and rock are interchangeable;
earth and flesh are inseparable.
Later,
on the murky edge of twilight,
creek mud caked on my boots,
Appalachian air in my lungs,
I bow to unknown ancestors
beneath my heels.
Lee Clark Zumpe, an entertainment editor and movie reviewer with Tampa Bay Newspapers, earned his degree in English at the University of South Florida. His poetry and short stories have appeared various publications, such as Tiferet, Zillah, Weird Tales, Modern Drunkard Magazine, and Main Street Rag. Lee lives in Florida with his wife and daughter.