In the Kentucky Mountains

This is where I came around a curve          found black water pooled                    where the road dipped, blacktop disappearedthe moon rose          its pale white refection                    flashing on the surface of the water.

This is where I tried to drive through water          only to discover its depths                    my car floating seaworthy as a boatbefore water found its way through          dark and cold and quickly rising                    above the dashboard to the windows.

This is where my car turned a slow circle          under fast-moving clouds                    where I rolled down my windowclimbed onto the roof          where I waited wet and cold                    surrounded by mountains and woods.

I thought myself fully alone          marooned and slowly sinking                    when I fell back to see stars overheadblink between clouds          the moon peek and disappear                    black water rush to the tree line:

before three swinging lights appeared          as if among the constellations                    before they turned out to be oil lanterns descending a steep hillside          the gait of those who carried them                    measuring their sweep and swing.

Before a family who lived in a nearby cabin          threw me a braided rope                    before they hauled me out of wateronto the blacktop road          before they swaddled me in a coarse blanket                    and took me into their home.

This is where they fed me hot milk and honey          found me dry clothes                    where they made me a palletand this is where I slept the long night          before they drove me to town                    on a morning streaming bright sunlight.

This is where we live.          In just such a world.                    This, too.