Sunset in Breathitt

Cotton Noe

Through purple haze of evening mountain mist,
A spiral thread of dark blue smoke arose
From hidden cove and rugged steep defile;
While like a ball of blood o'er some fair magic isle.
The sun a moment hung in deep repose.
Above a placid sea of amethyst,
In mystic prophecy of death and doom, —
Then dropped and splashed the sky with crimson
spray and spume!