The Other Brother
It was a hot day in the field
when, returning at last
bone-tired, sore from
tending your stiff-necked flock,
I saw bonfires,
extravagant blazes lighting
the way to our house,
but not for me
home late from
work,
so I asked your servant
“why such celebration? ”
That’s when my anger exploded;
…poor fellow, he bore my rage
and yelping away
cried it wasn’t his fault!
No, it wasn’t.
It isn’t.
It’s You.
You ask me to obey
and obediently I honor you every day.
With sweat and callused hands,
I cajole this stingy land
to give up a little wheat.
With my blood
I water these fields;
but when I wanted to show
my friends a little generosity,
I asked you for a stingy goat,
a meager feast, and
you said “no.”
So here he is, come home at last,
profligate brother…prodigal,
wastrel, drunkard,
sinner!
He’s back
and suddenly the prize calf
I worked so hard to make so fat is slain,
a royal feast for your favorite son
(though somewhat late) come home again!
[...] Read more
poem by Steven Federle
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
