poetry by j matthew waters

prodigal son

it was time I went back home
perhaps for the last time
to pay my respects
just as the commandments
had once taught me

I arrived clean shaven
and with half an appetite
sitting at the table
there was nothing but chit chat
and I dare not admit
the last time I’d made it
to confession

the house was too big
much bigger than
even I had remembered
somehow they’d managed
to keep it well kept
and up-to-date all these years

in the kitchen a little placard read
‘heaven hath no dust’

after lunch we settled into
the screened in porch
a baseball game streaming on the
muted television set
each of us with a beer in hand
silently asking for forgiveness
and giving thanks to god

october two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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3 thoughts on “prodigal son

  1. I can relate, family dynamics are often complicated. My condolences for your loss.❤️

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