Bunky

Bunky’s Shack – Dwight L. Roth

Bunky died today!

He called me just last week from his Shack on the mountain. Seems, his wife sold the house, left, and had gone to Florida. For him, the Shack was his place to get away from the heat of the summer. She stayed home by herself. Her daughter came up and helped. They liquidated all in just a few weeks.

When I worked for him, we always enjoyed long conversations filled with stories of growing up in Eastern North Carolina. He was strong willed, opinionated, and had done just about everything in his seventy plus years. Now, my friend was calling for a listening ear.

Sadly he shared, “When it was over said and done, it was a time, and there never was enough of it.”

Bunky had slipped on the side of the mountain and hit his head on a rock!

Bunky – Dwight L. Roth

Today at d’Verse, we are writing Prosery. This consists of writing a short story, flash fiction or true, exactly 144 words, and incorperating a line of poetry given to us by Lillian. The poetry line is taken from a poem by, “A Time” by Allison Adelle Hedge Coke.

The lines we were given were:

“When it was over said and done

it was a time

and there never was enough of it.”

The story above is a true story from a few years ago, when my good friend died suddenly in an accident at his place in the mountains.

Join us at: https://dversepoets.com

Grandfather Mountain

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One of the most beautiful spots to visit in North Carolina is Grandfather Mountain. Its mile high vista gives a panoramic view in every direction. The rugged pathway to the summit is accessible to the young and strong, but for the older folks the view from the bridge is almost as good as being on top.

Grandfather Mountain

The Blue Ridge Parkway yields panoramic views

Rising and falling through majestic hues

Turnoffs, overlooks, tunnels, and bridges

Orchards of apples and long gorgeous ridges

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Grandfather Mountain towers ahead

Drawing us up to its jaw-dropping ledge

Serpentine backbone a scoliated spine

Split Rock lay open and wrapped in vines

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The bald rocks the twisted trees

Bask carefree in the summer breeze

Hurricane-force winds cannot rip them loose

Deformed over time by Nature’s abuse

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Excited to be at the top of the world

Here where branches and trunks are curled

Blooming flowers defy the wind

Smiling sweetly until the very end

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Feeling the sway of the long steel bridge

Looking up in the distance at the neighboring ridge

A rocky pathway draws some to his face

The old man of the mountain stays fixed in his place

Undaunted by storms or gray fog rolling in

He’ll still be there when our vision grows dim

Creating the mystique that continues to draw

Young and old from near and far

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