Mack Hall
mhall46184@aol.com
Paterfamilias
For Eldon
An
empty chair beside the fireplace waits,
And
lamplight falls upon an open book,
Pen,
pocketknife, keys for the pasture gates,
Dad’s
barn coat hanging from its accustomed hook.
But
he will not return; his duties now
Transcend
the mists of the pale world we know,
And
you in grief must carry on, somehow;
Your
duty is here, for God will have it so
The
good man takes that chair reluctantly;
It
is a throne of sorts, and one imposed,
Not
taken as a prize, triumphantly,
But
in love’s service, and in love disposed.
An
empty chair beside the fireplace waits
For
you, whom doleful duty consecrates.
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