Mister Mac

A line of light across the road,
Like a beacon shining across the deep.
Raised hand,
Eyes adjusting,
It came from a window,
Of the home of Mister Mac.

This light keeping back the darkness,
Shines on an image of a young couple.
Two lovers exchanging a glance,
A moment in which only they existed.

In place of loss and might-have-beens,
Visits bring a mirror image of an aged father,
Delivering scorn, shame and impatience.
Mac realises duty is a sad shadow of affection,
As he watches his son drive away.

Small window,
Failing vision,
Creaky rocking chair,
Watching the world go by.

One day a small boy makes his way,
Across the street to Charlie’s door.
Charlie wanting him to stay,
Tells of adventures in pioneer days,
And promises a surprise next day.

At first light the boy crosses,
Told to look next to the shed.
Waiting there bow and arrows,
Made by shaky old hands and dim eyes,
In the hours between.

No braver act was ere achieved,
By armoured knight on stead,
Than when Mister Mac,
Seeing injustice from his window,
Took cane in unsteady hand,
And pursued bus stop bullies.

Window and eyes fog over,
He still sits in that small room,
Longing to see the boy at play.
The boy who chases the loneliness away.

Gerald Lee Jordan
Nelson NZ
24 January 2013