Beloved, I am home

“Beloved, I am home!”

 

tall, lean, oxfords echo
empty house
gold hardwood floors
whitewashed walls bounce
waves
of but
one man’s voice

 

no use
to fuss with kindle
for the fire
the remnant coals
shall
keep his bed
warm

 

though a sadness
though sentimentalism
the hopeful heart
still feels joy

 

the quiet hours
the stillness of midnight prayer
there is but a
candle who whispers
eternal