Riverboat Revenge, Part Ii
...The two men confirmed Fred went for his gun,
and the captain just let the whole thing be,
Lyle got up and walked out to the deck,
in the fresh air he felt able to breath.
He paced up to the churning paddle-wheel,
then he learned himself up against the rail,
he pulled something from a waistcoat pocket,
it was a letter, tattered, old, and frail.
He unfolded it and reread the words
written by his sister two years ago,
Constance had spoke of her new fiancé
that she soon hoped all the family would now.
He was a surveyor headed out west,
would find new lands in the bright prairie sun,
and a good lot where they would build a house,
that he went by the name Fred Kensington.
Lyle held the letter and then recalled
his sister coming back home all in tears,
unmarried, with child, and all alone,
Fred had run off, and she was drowned in fears.
He recalled the harsh words his parent screamed,
she had brought them great disgrace, they had said.
He remembered finding her in the barn...
hanging from the rafters, by her own hand dead.
He looked at the letter one final time,
then ripped it up into shreds fervently,
threw it past the rail so it fluttered down
to the depths of the cold Mississippi.
Copyright © David Welch | Year Posted 2020
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