I Left My Mittens In The Smokies Poem by Lucius Furius

I left my mittens in the Smokies.
It was that night at Maddron Bald on the ridge
after we'd hiked from Davenport Gap -
12 miles,4,000 feet.
The girl gave us icicles.
Dazed and breathless, we pitched the tent
and scrambled into our sleeping bags.

The morning sun felt good - Sterling Ridge
on our left, Cosby far below to the right;
Mt. Guyot with its spruces and firs;
lunch at Tri-Corner Knob; then down through
the rhododendrons and mud to McGhee Springs.
Raven Fork - the beech tree, the icy water,
the boulders, the sunlight.
Cabin Flats and Smokemont - the rain,
the people with pancakes.

Campfires, backpacks, flapjacks, barley;
sunshine, lichens, blisters, ... wood-smoke.