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Poems From Appalachian Wanderer

Poems From Appalachian Wanderer Russell Marano Appalachian Heritage, Volume 4, Number 2, Spring 1976, pp. 46-48 (Article) Published by The University of North Carolina Press DOI: https://doi.org/10.1353/aph.1976.0006 For additional information about this article https://muse.jhu.edu/article/442353/summary Access provided at 19 Feb 2020 23:40 GMT from JHU Libraries Poems From Appalachian Wanderer by RUSSELL MARAÑO HIGHWAYS We were coming from Madrid heading south to the sea. We reached the Sierra Nevada mountains. The moon bounced over the fuzzy, brooding heads of the pine trees, then became entangled in the branches of the dwarf trees pruned to snarled grotesqueness. It bounced free, and we lost her as we saw miles down the lights of Malaga like a jeweled brooch at the bosom of the Sierra Nevadas. We drifted down the narrow highway. The moon, looking like a loose jewel, was bouncing in the plumage of the palm trees. Hiking day and night on U.S. 30, I made it from 'Frisco to New York in two and a half days and four rides. I was one with the wheels. Movement spinning out of itself like a tire spinning free of its retread. 46 Ill The highway down the Italian Riviera. On the right, yards of multi-colored flowers dangling http://www.deepdyve.com/assets/images/DeepDyve-Logo-lg.png Appalachian Review University of North Carolina Press

Poems From Appalachian Wanderer

Appalachian Review , Volume 4 (2) – Jan 8, 2014

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Publisher
University of North Carolina Press
Copyright
Copyright © Berea College
ISSN
2692-9244
eISSN
2692-9287

Abstract

Russell Marano Appalachian Heritage, Volume 4, Number 2, Spring 1976, pp. 46-48 (Article) Published by The University of North Carolina Press DOI: https://doi.org/10.1353/aph.1976.0006 For additional information about this article https://muse.jhu.edu/article/442353/summary Access provided at 19 Feb 2020 23:40 GMT from JHU Libraries Poems From Appalachian Wanderer by RUSSELL MARAÑO HIGHWAYS We were coming from Madrid heading south to the sea. We reached the Sierra Nevada mountains. The moon bounced over the fuzzy, brooding heads of the pine trees, then became entangled in the branches of the dwarf trees pruned to snarled grotesqueness. It bounced free, and we lost her as we saw miles down the lights of Malaga like a jeweled brooch at the bosom of the Sierra Nevadas. We drifted down the narrow highway. The moon, looking like a loose jewel, was bouncing in the plumage of the palm trees. Hiking day and night on U.S. 30, I made it from 'Frisco to New York in two and a half days and four rides. I was one with the wheels. Movement spinning out of itself like a tire spinning free of its retread. 46 Ill The highway down the Italian Riviera. On the right, yards of multi-colored flowers dangling

Journal

Appalachian ReviewUniversity of North Carolina Press

Published: Jan 8, 2014

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