the Appalachian Operation

that long line
shot down the
backbone of ol'
Virginia, threads
between mountain
ranges, ancient
valley spirit
breadbasket, blue
skies, redolent
streaks of cloud
blown like powder
'cross green earth,
that's where Gabow
was going, to the end,
err, beginning for him,
for us, forest service road
42-3 mountain pass in that
mysterious green
in Fannin county, Chattahoochee
wilderness, Joe facing
off against that repeat number
again, and goes, I don't know
how much you believe in numerology
but that number keeps popping up,
and I don't know how much I believe
in it either, or if I do or if I am
spinning always spinning
in some tornado, some whirlpool
like apophena, anyway,
at the drop off mountain
pass, mountain trail, appalachian
farewell he's got 2,300 some
odd miles to go, and we've got less
to drive, in less time,
weeks away, counting
down, setting off, heading
home.