Somewhere in Asheville

SOMEWHERE IN ASHEVILLE

Other than how

 the characteristic

hair-pins and low-

shoulder switch-

backs serve to

 map something 

in you equally

 slow and relentless, 

mountain roads

 are also good for

losing things: 

cell service, first, 

followed by 

your certainty 

that the trees 

are just metaphorically

watching, then 

even—stay long enough—

your way, much 

the way this parabolic faith

of ours or a long, 

winding sentence

funnels you

through its dark arteries 

to the heart

of an overpass 

you would never 

have considered

venturing to see,

but—on looking

back—is clearly 

the one place you 

needed to be.