Prodigal Poem by Keith Shorrocks Johnson

The world is in a bad way.
But if it could come to pass
I would watch out for it
And then take it in my arms
Clapping it with manly hugs and pats
Swallowing my tears
Knowing it had returned
From fain eating what the swine would eat.

And I would kill the fatted calf
Or provide the contemporary equivalent
Of a pot roast in the slow cooker
With a tray of roasted veggies
And some lightly steamed greens,
Taking the infusion
To make some gravy
For a good feed around the family table.