Fresh Breeze Out Of Tennessee* In the dark gulch of the great divide do you lose your heart? Feel the tug and downward pull slow the pace of stepping lightly across the Fruited Plain? Carry with you the shadow sorrow of children shot? Does the spring breeze pass unnoted? The squirrel with his magnificent tail appear as just a pest? When did the champagne go flat? There is to be a moon, the Pink Moon, the Spring Moon. Can’t you picture it? Bright and Full? Still shining on our planet, awash with hope and promise. I rise in the middle of the night to stand Druid-like under the light to renew my spirit, to roll away the stone. But no moon is there, not east or west, nor north or south Over in the creek a frog croaks. Then I see directly above, one star, one star shining just for me. And feel the soft Southern kiss of a breeze pass across my cheek. *Dedicated to the Tennessee 3: Rep. Justin Jones, Rep. Justin Pearson, Rep. Gloria Johnson