Though he came back many times
it was the past which haunted him
rattling his dreams with a load
of chains
he could not unlock. It was as though
his father were looking at him
out of the corner of his eyes
wondering when he would up
and leave once more, and that
one more time
there would be that scenario
of his return: once
in the corn field
amongst the pigs, between the sharp
angular rooftops
of the buildings of the farm;
then again on the steps
of their palatial home.
His father beams. He crawls
on his knees. He notes
that his mother
if seen at all
is off to the side,
or through a curtained window frame,
is half observed.
But it is his father’s eyes
he recalls, and recoils from,
which fill the screen
and impose an incongruously modern touch
upon the biblical scene.
Again and again
they give to the canvas
a surrealistic tone
thickening the paint
with all these feelings:
of mercy, pity, compassion, even love,
until the redundant superficiality
of it, forces him to leave once more.
O, knowing that some day
that stalwart bearded figure of his father
will be him
is too much to bear. *