Brenda Kay Ledford
PROGRESS
You know the old logging road,
the one behind the red house,
the one winding past Mama’s garden
where morning glories climb the corn;
and you know the path reeks
with trash and broken pines weep
where the loggers butchered trees.
And a mourning dove moans
from the spring where you drew
water for tea and light oozes
through the black gum like bile
as the shadow of a crow passes
over trillium that will soon fade
away like all of us.
You know the Shewbird Mountain
quivers beneath the Thunder Moon
as the mining company
creeps up the mountain
to grind her bones into dust.
(first published in American Society: What Poets See)
Wild Goose Poetry Review 
Inspite of the harsh truth, you present beauty in this poem, Brenda.
Brenda Kay, this poem is one of my favorite of all your poetry. A lyric poem that is beautiful and hits us in the gut at the end – grind her bones into dust. Wow!
Brenda,
You are a terrific writer and poet. I enjoyed reading this poem, thank you.
Brenda, If you are seeking a publisher, try Aldrich Press. Their work is top-notch and let you know yes or no within just a couple of weeks. Your poem brings many powerful emotions to me.