Bath Virginia Poem by James McLain

Hot were the words between him and the father,
one is gone.
Standing alone, deep in the woods the wind hears.
Leaves fall from the bush over the trees.
Knowing not people knew when he left school.
Something's not right why he fell out here on deaf ears.
Even the seed of the fruit when it falls from a tree,
needing help and was not handed out.
One can not see the sky for all the trees.
As the son squeezed the trigger.
And the sound of one shot fills the air.







2: 38 p.m.
19 November 2013