The BlueIris Semi-Nightly Poetry Break, 8/11/08

"Lucifer Visits Home"

It seemed to make sense
at the time—he

was the prodigal son, who was dead
then alive, lost and then found,

and if he came home
to the Kingdom, safe and sound

and begging redemption,
his aging Dad would rejoice

to see his face. So glad
was Lucifer's heart, turning the key

in the closed garage, breathing

in, in . . .




The Gate is ajar, creaking
on its starry hinge. No other song

meets his call. No robe
is wrapped around his shoulders,

no fatted calf killed—
he wanders the streets, passing

the boarded stores. Here and there,
through a locked window,

a glimpse of furniture draped
in dusty sheets. The gutters

littered with feathers
and unanswered prayers.

Not even a note
on the fridge . . .




It was, of course, an accident
he explains to his grateful wife

and the EMTs. The car
will need to be looked at

right away—he'd only just
turned the key, and then . . .

And because they stare
with such longing, he describes

the joy in the many voices
of his lost beloved, the warmth

of the next world's welcome,
the light of the light of all lights.

—Philip Memmer

It is very beautiful, but I'm not sure I get it...

Somebody died...was it Lucifer?

Still, I love the imagery...

Very nice!

Thank you...

Sigh.

And I thought this one would be more popular.