Lights of Gatlinburg by Greg Scheiber

Lights of Gatlinburg
Somewhere below me,
Someone is laughing—
Someone is having a beer or tea
And reclining under a slanted roof.
Somewhere down there,
In the valley—
Someone is fading in front of a TV
Or walking an artificially lit street
Looking for something or someone,
Soul-searching on zombied,
Touristed streets long past hiker-midnight,
Taking advantage
Of the young,
If not youthful night.
Many people are making love,
I am sure,
‘Neath those tiny bulbs,
So far by feet,
So close by night—
Flittering like false gems
On costume jewelry.
They count like stars,
A cloudy Milky Way
Across Tennessee—the universe below
Mimicking the universe above,
Clinging to the heels
Of us ridgewalkers like satellites in orbit,
Searching for a signal
In the wind from somewhere.
Greg Scheiber is currently pursuing his MFA in poetry at Eastern Washington University.  His work has previously appeared in Poetry Quarterly, Oddball, and Nomadic Journal.

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