Sabbath Outing

A supermoon, an owl’s hoot.
Scenes that linger upon waking.
I place a hand-scripted note on
the kitchen table: Fasting from
social media. Headed
to Little Mount Pisgah. On the drive up,
Queen Anne foams ditches.
Black cows, hearts chalked
between eyes, block the rutted road,
their fresh patties steaming.
Turkeys strut beside the waiting car
as if today’s company pleases them.
On the bald, honeysuckle flushes the air
while a mama bear scurries
three cubs toward a thicket
where laurels bloom doll house tea cups.
To the east, a view of the mammoth flag
flapping atop Chimney Rock, a finger
of Lake Lure. With me, a folding chair,
dogeared book, spring water to sip.
Hours until sunset.