We head south...
Asheville:
Shindig on the Green
is,
according to itself,
the oldest folk festival in
the United States of America.
According to me,
it is almost as homey as katydids;
an occasion to sit in a warm evening and hear music
that makes my heart ache for summer.
Once it was an occasion for frock envy;
now I am older than six
I am willing to leave the petticoats to the cloggers.
This year, we discovered a new wonderful thing:
quarter watermelons may be obtained there for a dollar.
Knoxville:
In Pigeon Forge,
we ate peanuts and drank bad beer while
the Montgomery Biscuits beat the Smokies 6-3.
Then the next day watched snakes hoist their bodies over tree branches
turtles kick their claws through mud
and various sleepy lonely creatures lazing in the mud
then hopped into the Tennessee River; fish nibbled our skin
we lazed in the water to another concert of katydids.
It's good to be home.
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