Sy Roth- A Poem

Stopover

Son stopped by yesterday eve,

on his way to somewhere.

I hosted him to a party of

empty verbiage sung in a void.

Fatherly duty swept away in clacking silences,

he met his obligations with curt nods.

Wonder in his eyes pinged off the sides of our canyons.

The ending came on muffled feet

sprung from a gaseous fumeral.

Eyes turned to the ticking clock

bells of somewhere striking an hour.

He shuffled to the front door

into the darkness of my night.

Form vanished like a thought

shouted to the silence of his absence.