I spy my love
along the ridge,
a silhouette
in shadows of black.
I stand with my heart
a breakin’
‘fore I fear
he’s not coming back.
We were to be married
this autumn
but the war broke out
in June.
With brothers at odds
in the fighting,
I fear this is no
Civil tune.
Visions of blood, tears
and sorrow,
I fear he isn’t
so well.
I pray for the wake
of tomorrow,
and for my love,
I cast a spell.
I summon the thing
that shall not be named.
He appeared as a stag
at my door.
With my soul I trade
so that his will be saved,
but I’ll not see him
no more.
Brett Gordon is a writer and poet from the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina. Her writing is deeply rooted in and inspired by the folklore and culture of Appalachia. She loves to explore and celebrate the region through her poetry.
Beautiful. Sad, but loving.
Beautiful, love can cause unimaginable pain and suffering. Brett’s articulation of longing for love evokes a time when the region was dealing with so much loss that love seemed to be beyond hope. So eloquently written from an old soul, I look forward to many more works from Brett. Well done!!
Brett,
So proud of your achievement! I like your style in this poem where you said much with few words!