Father, Son

When I thought of you two and your story
I always thought of the Prodigal son-
returning forgiven, to your open arms.

I got it wrong and I know that now.

I watch you, hunched with age,
wrinkled with worry,
and the story I think of is different.

You- tested over and over-
have maintained the faith in god
you have always had and,
no matter what-
you will always believe in the father,
the son,
and those around you have become
the holy ghosts.

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