The Prophet

by Robert Lloyd Jaffe

I would see my father
read The Prophet
in his younger days
and older ways.
It sat there, that prophet,
though year passed to year
and my father’s desk
became cluttered,
his windows shuttered,
and the dust was all that touched
the little book.
I would sometimes
see the two of them,
steal a glance to each other,
and marvel
at how a dead prophet
could be younger
than a living man.

Robert Lloyd Jaffe's picture

I am an observer and listener of the music of life. Where I find cadence, I find my interest and passion directed. It can be sound, light, smell, or purely an experience of thought. The sky, the sea, the mountains, and the machines that allow me to explore those places draw my attention, and give me serenity.

Last updated May 06, 2016