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/