Grist mill

Something I scribbled down inside of an old grist mill in Tennessee.

The worn red exterior 

An ancient mechanical interior 

I have found my favorite place

Waters of a beautiful green

Of this ice-cold stream 

That once powered this beast 

Waterfalls built by man 

A warm beach of sand

This place has a sense of beauty 

That can be felt as well seen 

If you want a place to be happy 

I will gladly take you with me 

To the home of Alvin C. York