Finishing Line Press announces the publication of "Seasons of the Ridge," a chapbook by Evelyn McAmis Bales of Kingsport, Tennessee. "Seasons on the Ridge" is a celebration of a place where the author has lived, studied and loved for almost 50 years. She celebrates the ridge and the life she lived with her husband, who passed away in 2020, and their children. She pays homage to its trees, plants, animals with a sense of gratitude for the joy and peace it has afforded her as well as the constant reminder of the bittersweet passage of time. In the words of an early reader, "an autobiography of poetry so tender and tranquil you can envision the poet skipping through time into the afterlife full of love for her beloved and their place."
Bales has been published in many journals and anthologies throughout the Appalachian Region and beyond including "The Southern Anthology of Poetry: Tennessee Edition," edited by Jesse Graces, Paul Riffin and William Wright and "The Anthology of Appalachian Writers," edited by Wiley Cash. Her poetry has been published several times in A! Magazine for the Arts to celebrate National Poetry Month. In 2024, she won the Knoxville Writers Guild Poetry competition with her poem "Autumn Comes," which is included in this collection. Two of her poems were performed by the West Palm Beach Repertory Company in Florida. She is a frequent featured reader at the Flood Gallery in Asheville, North Carolina, and often reads her poetry at the Johnson City Poets Collective poetry evenings at Down Home, a local listening parlor. She has also edited two anthologies with the work of local writers, which she published with a grant from the Tennessee Arts Commission and support from the Sullivan Gardens Branch Library.
The chapbook is at a discount through July 3, $15.99 plus shipping. Order online through www.finishinglinepress.com or by mail at Finishing Line Press, P.O. Box 1626, Georgetown, Kentucky, 40324,
Autumn Comes
With subtle signs at first.
A lone scarlet leaf flames maple.
Walnut leaves turn paler green,
their yellow nut hulls visible now.
Redbud seed pods fade
brown as morning coffee
Then frenzied bluejays begin
sparring for beechnut kernels.
Squirrels scurry from tree to ground
gathering hickory nuts and acorns.
In the house we feel the change.
Soup replaces fresh vegetables
on the supper table, sweaters are pulled
from backs of closets.
Woodsmoke drifts across the ridge like a warning.
Tomorrow we will dig potatoes,
gather the last okra crop,
stay up late to watch the Harvest moon rising.
Soon we will store the deck chairs,
but not before those last November days
arrive suddenly warm, and we note
the bitter-sweet passage of time
as the trees are refined to their final glory,
their falling leaves crazy quilting across the yard.
(reprinted with permission)
