The Unsung

Bello was his name. He was a great singer. He sang better than some in fame but nobody knew him. When he played his old guitar, all the birds would sing, for his tunes were so bizarre; It quenched the drought with rain. But one day he took a voyage, faraway, amazing grace. The heart that lacked the courage bade farewell to those who praise. I wish those voices came in fame, for they were pure and golden. They were like birds in early spring that sang a tune from heaven. Dedicated to the memory of my uncle Bello, the greatest folk singer that I've ever known. Edited January 22, 2023 For: Loved and Lost Poetry Contest Sponsored By: Regina McIntosh