That day, my father lost his path as he tipped his lips to the sky. Clouds began to gather, thin on a distant horizon. When he lost his job, the dark threat rose beyond the Blue Ridge valley. When he sold our mountain land and fields, I could hear thunder roar in the distance. Darkness enfolded my mother, my brother, me, our home. Rain and wind came, slanting, washing away my father’s sweet angled grin. It rained, rained and rained, then lightning struck him speechless. We watched his battered soul fly away with the dark clouds, and the sun began to shine.
About the Poet:
Les Brown attended Appalachian State University and the University of Southern Mississippi. He has published poetry and short stories in journals, including Moonshine Review, Pinesong, Streetlight Magazine, Pine Mountain Sand and Gravel, Main Street Rag, and Still the Journal. A Pushcart Nominee, He has two published two chapbooks, A Place Where Trees Had Names (2020) and Cold Forge (2022), both by Redhawk Publications. Les lives in Troutman, NC.
Wow, this is an amazing poem! Thank you for sharing Les. Bowing to you.
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