Melinda Foshat

Poetry, Prose, Photography

The Prodigal’s Plight


He was born, only once
His one want, to want not

He learned sorrow in the faces
Hung lopsided on his wall
Of friends and family
And a stranger he knew once

When he died
They threw out his leftovers
With the crystal fragments
Of a chandelier
Which fell from the
Chateau de la Grange

And when his soul
Which had fled long ago
Glanced in passing
It stopped to admire
The picture of a stranger
Lying atop a bag of bones

(Dedicated to Jobina, a stranger, who in just a few passing words, inspired me to write.)
© Copyright – All rights reserved – – September 26, 2014


Author: melindafoshat

Poet, dreamer, philosopher, photographer

8 thoughts on “The Prodigal’s Plight

  1. A strange poem, but somehow I had to read it a few times.

  2. Beautiful imagery.

  3. A new take on the prodigal son.Or could be someone else.
    Very nice.

  4. Thank you so much for the follow! I have to admit i got curious and decided to give your stuff a read… Loving the line about ‘Chateau de la Grange’… I love it when poetry is tied to a sense of place like that as it gives it more realism and a sense of time/context that makes it so much more tangible!

  5. I am pleased to have found your blog and happy to follow! Peace! –Dennis

  6. In my, so far, brief experience with online poetry, this is the best I have seen. The second verse in particular, “hung lopsided on his wall”, is one of those lines that stick in the reader’s head.

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