memories carefully folded just so

packed between thin layers of mountain sky

the light behind the ridge as the sun set

making the trees shine like gold

not as bright as the love I’ve found

scattered in these hills and hollers

stubbornly lodged like Creeper dust

seeped like water down a steep decline

healing wounds I thought would never close

and so when they ask where I’m from

I’ll call this place home

it was not the food itself I bought

but the memory of care

I was ill and someone made a special trip

to that store on the edge of town

for this one thing that helped me

as I slowly relearned how to eat

and then you showed a similar attention

remarkable for this day and time

with a grin that has always made me glad

a smile that bids a happy welcome

such kindnesses might seem small

but these form the web of the world

building connections to things unseen

with unwavering threads of regard