Prodigal ’13

“Prodigal” was originally written ten years ago. On a recent revisit back to 小小的太阳 I realised the beginning scenes depicted exactly what I had in mind.. how uncanny. The prose was edited to give it a more crisp tone and then presented to several close friends as parting gifts.

The mug warm in his hands
He raised it and drank –
A mouth of the dark brew
Unharried, alone.

Lifting his eyes in a glance
The trees bare and laden white –
Not a sight of warmth
But I’ll have to get going yet.

Looked down to the table –
Lit cigarette wasting, sandwich half-eaten
Fingering the ticket lovingly
For just a moment, a hesitation.

Breaking off, he pulled up the collar
Picked up his bag and stood at the door
Stepping off the ledge, he never turned back
On the journey back, home.

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Filed under coffee, faith, poetry, trust

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