Learning the Father’s Path I hear it from the Sabbath man, a sentiment of holy charm, so squeaky clean, like jet black book, suspended palms, bat on a string, flap model wing from Halloween. I see it through the pastor’s beads, that trickle down, brine rivulets, his paw clutch mop to blot the brow, his forehead, skull, that boulder style, plead rising voice, feigned eloquence. I feel it from the man in house, smash high-rise arms of witches’ brew, sweat stink outbreak from bottled drink, cranial ram that batters Mum - should I follow our father’s path?
Stephen Kingsnorth (Cambridge M.A., English & Religious Studies), retired to Wales from ministry in the Methodist Church, has had pieces published by on-line poetry sites, printed journals and anthologies. https://poetrykingsnorth.wordpress.com/