Tuesday, October 27, 2009


In the dawning
Will come the battle,
The last for
Our house, for
Our families, for
My father’s name
And position and
Rank and favor and
Crown, the crown
Already long lost.

In the night eve of death,
Across the campfire
I see his eyes, staring,
Filled with anger,
Stilled with hate.
He stares through
His madness at me,
The surrogate.
My treason is I
Loved my friend.

That day on
The hillside,
That day when
He slung the smooth
That day when he held up
The giant’s head,
That day, my
Heart knitted
To his.

I knew then,
Just a boy,
I knew then my
Father’s fate.
I knew then my
Friend would
Be given, one day,
The crown my
Father intended for
My head.

We became men together,
Two beings, two minds,
One heart, one soul.
My father would not understand
What I did, what I said,
What I knew.
His anger with,
His fear of my friend
Was measured out
In fury to me.

After this night eve of death,
I will die
In the dawning,
Near my father but
Not next to him.


Maureen said...

". . . Near my father but / Not next to him."

This poem put my heart in my throat.

Anonymous said...

oh what a wonderful friendship and what a tragic loss.

you words well chosen
well placed.

L.L. Barkat said...


"My treason is I
Loved my friend."

And, yes, the end, as Maureen said. Yes.

Anne Lang Bundy said...

Ah, how beautifully you've captured one of the people I most look forward to meeting in heaven ... a man of whom I've written much myself ...

We became men together,
Two beings, two minds,
One heart, one soul.

Jonathan could not believe evil of his father until the day the man cast a spear at flesh of his flesh, and called him the son of a harlot to curse mother as well. Even so, Jonathan died at his father's side, and in doing so never sat at David's right hand.

This is faithfulness.

michael snyder said...

Man, I wish I could do that...

Anonymous said...

Glynn! Glynn. Glyn...I thought I knew this story well, but here you come and turn it upside down in my head.

I will echo Maureen's and LL's "Heart in my throat" comment.
You keep it up here, Poet.