Brevard

First draft after I read, Mr, Scott's "War", Me outside the laundry in Brevard one June.

Two 55 gallon drums bridged by a rough cut
Warn smooth board plank.
Surrounded by a ice-cream and Beer crowd,
A fiddle adds sugar to the banjos call to the wilting evening light,
Hoisted up are two daughters, great gran daughters,
Of the bearded on lookers, now into their shine.
A Southern beauty with laced boots Vs.Tennis shoes with freckles on her... but...
We love her sort of gal.
The leather and rubber teasing the plank,
Me set back away from the light,
Now building a cone of yellow with little tracers flying left and right.
A Fire -fight of Fireflies, indifferent to the clogging match ,
Indifferent to the girls whose men had gone,
to coal, to meth,to somewhere away from,
French Broad flat water, Toxaway-Roster- tails.
Gone from the hardwood thick of Devils Court House,
Left the rough ridge lines now covered in houses,
Men gone to war,
Left lonely "tar heel dead",
Girls to clog ,
In a parking lot in
Brevard.
Their babies soaking up the,
Life of a
Crying fiddle.

Me so deep,
Searching, patterns, paths,music, light,
Fireflies,
"Cold Light" in unison,

They stole my load of
Whites going around and around.

Posted

Author's Note

My mother,My country, court ordered incapacitated,but in my humble view very present, Add twenty years to her birth and there she is parked. A "Tar Heel born, Tar Heel bred,and when I die I'll be Tar Heel Dead" So she likes to say. From the fields of Fletcher North Carolina,Arden,or Lynn on the border , where Sidney Lanier died(Great Poet) America wakes and dies for us to watch,My Mother wakes and dies for us to watch and she will smile so bright when you read and write about the south of her youth. America will too.

Reviews

[Vincent Moore]

Being from the north, reading about a time in the south, sure triggers my aspirations to visit. I enjoyed the language and descriptive words used so vividly in this interesting piece of literature so cleverly crafted from your brilliant mind. I see you are a very visual writer, I too like to take my reader on a journey into my world and live and breathe the events of any given day from my past, present and hopefully some future. Bravo, well done, I loved it and rate it high.

[Blaise]

Guy Clark comes to mind. Be complimented by that: Guy Clark is a great writer.

[Tree]

Lee I wish more people were aware of your writing. You just have a way of funneling an emotion all the way into these sad beautiful crescendos. I think because a lot of your writing has a local flavor, language wise and culturally that some don't connect right away; but if they gave it chance, they'd understand... I read Mrs. Kline's review then looked up Brevard ( I agree with her assessment, Tar Heels and all) and a couple of military installations (including FT. Bragg) not far from there, been there, a friendly hard working people... Thank you sir for sharing this observation, and encapsulating the moment.

[Sheila Kline]

My, oh my - How I can see this scene, and hear the sounds of the fiddle, the cloggers on the wood plank, and know the sadness of the drugs, the men away at war, the totality of it all.....you describe it with the finesse of one who has been there. I am enough of a mountain/southern gal to relate to much of this. Is Bevard in NC ?- the Tar Heels so I am believing it is Brevard, NC in Transylvania county
A very interesting write!! War hits every hometown!!