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
