Drowned by Les Brown

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.
Photo by Frank Cone on Pexels.com

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 ReviewPinesongStreetlight 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.


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