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Phibby Venable
Toward Blowing Rock
toward blowing rock the truck ran
like the syllables of bear talk, as content
as the low rumble of a fed hound
and you were commenting on the heritage
of brakers in the left lane, their heads twisting
to the natural color of leaves
oblivious to the purpose of other people
And the leaves leapt through the blue
mountain in the wild beauty of dance
fresh girls arriving first to move fast
through a wellspring of momentum
in the brightness of a new dress
and winter played stiffly on a violin
to end the festival in a slow cool waltz
And you were taking me higher into
the mountains and farther
than I wanted from your touch
and the evening grew rosy and the
arrival of dusk broached its descent
like an unraveling hem
So that when the snow began
not savage but feathery as a light kiss
I saw the trees stretch like christmas
into snow covered wreaths
and the sky whiten as the wind swiped
the snow into miniature angels
rushing across the pavement in playful jumps
And I wanted to rush too
straight into your arms where your chest
warm and lion furred stopped
bad dreams and endings
And your arms blocked despair
like a line backer
saving the game when the quarterback
fumbled the ball.
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