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The Blue Ridge Parkway
Danny P. Barbare


Looking at the jewelry, bracelets, earrings,
and necklaces, books
about leaves. Clothes, wooden
canes, wind chimes
like dulcimers, angels, colorful rocks,
pictures of smoky blue lands and
paintings, calendars and postcards
and maps. I look out the window at the
Blue Ridge, like an ocean of mountains,
and buy a book to learn autumn’s
colors as we leave Pisgah Inn not to
return before April, when winter comes
and the gates to the parkway are closed
for those cold snowy days. The sunset
glows in the trees and the tunnels howl
as Biltmore sits nestled in the valley
of Asheville and the leaves
swirl behind the car
as the French Broad flows in cool shade.

This poem first appeared in Cacti Fur (April, 2018).
Used here with permission.



Danny P. Barbare's award-winning work has been published in numerous online and print journals.
Author of four books,
Danny lives with his family in Greenville, South Carolina, where he draws inspiration from the Blue Ridge mountains and from the lowlands of Charleston.


Post New Comment:
Love this! It reminds me of a trip my wife and I took in the spring of 2019, to the Smokies but we visited Asheville and Biltmore and were overwhelmed with all of this area's beauty. Great poem!
Posted 10/23/2020 09:36 AM
My parents took us on a family vacation through that part of the world (we lived in Missouri) when I was very young, and it was magical to see something that looked so very different from the hills and valleys of home!
Posted 10/18/2020 05:41 PM
Sharon Waller Knutson:
I like the picturesque images in this poem. Ocean of mountains and tunnels howl are exquisite.
Posted 10/18/2020 09:22 AM

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