the passing of a king


it is a drear evening

a barren table

would-be sculpting in the varnish

drifting lights

sinking through an open window


my son is leaving


i sit and watch the fire

as embers

turn to ash

are seen no more


soon we’ll say farewell


i remember how when young

he’d run and jump on me

i’d hug him

kiss him

treat him like a king

as any loving father would his son


but times

as kings

are passing

these alone i saw


i know i’ll miss him


from the dying fire

my weary eyes

wander to the window



i see an old man

walking through the park


he walks in silence

and alone


slightly hunched


though i know not

who he is

i feel i should


i stare

for quite some time

at his familiar gait


and wonder

who would walk

so slowly

and alone


and then

as he comes near

i see his face


my own



Charles Schlee, You Come Too.  © 2007, 2019. 


◄ carver of a tree


Profile image

Charles Schlee

Wed 21st Aug 2019 02:56

Martin, Wolfgar, and Mae

I haven't logged in for a while and just read your comments. Thank you. I really appreciate them.


Profile image

Martin Elder

Fri 12th Jul 2019 09:36

A fabulous heartfelt poem which certainly draws the reader in in a very real way. It is hard at times to let them go to move on in the world.
Nice one

Profile image

Mae Foreman

Wed 10th Jul 2019 21:05

Stole my heart and then broke it?Beautiful and painful.
Thank you ?

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message