Finding my brother Bob

Finding my brother Bob

That sweltering hot August day I walked into that mining town Bar looking for my brother Bob, hoping that my toil was not in vain. If he's died I want to find where he is lain.
The Barkeep looks me deep in the eye, and sternly says; who are you and why do you want to know, why don't you turn around and just go!

I was shaking as I blurted out; he's my brother, I need him to find; our Dad had just died last week way down yonder in that Mine. Tears welled up in the Bartender's eyes; he pointed towards a table dimly lighted, there sat my brother
alone, he was coughing so much that I quickly reached for my phone,
then as he reached for the glass of gin I said; hello brother I'm your next of kin Jim.

A broad smile appeared on that hairy face, he said; thank you God for your grace, never thought the day would come and I would see your face.
He reached out to shake my hand, he was a huge man, his fist was as big as Momma's old frying pan. He said sit down Jim, you came at just the right time, when they rushed me to the Hospital, Black Lung Disease they did find.
He had told them that he must get back to the mine, they said; forget it, get it out of your mind.

I only have a few weeks to live but to you and our Mom the old house I want to give.
It has a great view of those golden fields of wheat and the mountains beyond with their purple hue and it has no mortgage too!

When Bob had shown up in that town one rainy day, no one would look him in the eye, rumor has it that someone did and someone had died.
His arms were long and strong, to a coal miner they did belong, it was for men like him that were written many a song.
His head hug low, mine shafts are not high and wide as we know, years working in them can steal life's glow.
He said that the mine owner was good guy and it broke his heart when he saw a young miner break down and cry.
Bob told me about the day our Dad had died, he was with him, by his side, the men were laboring together with their black faces and lungs combined, the mine owns those down there, it's coal breath seeps inward, in the dim light those faces appear, their eyes white with fear.

The canary sings its song, hopefully it will last for very long, suddenly a low rumble is heard, all becomes silent, nobody speaks a word.
After many hours of shivering in the cold and dark the sound of machinery is heard in their ears and they break out in cheers! Bob searched all around but Dad's
body was never found. Bob and the guys left that shaft, with the canary in hand and lots of beers.

*Dedicated to all the Coal Miners, Families of the World.

Author Ken, October 13, 2015