Not Stopping (Poetry)

He came home one Sunday morning
the whole village was in church
so he climbed the tree of childhood
found his close-to-heaven perch

There he waited for an hour
till the congregation came
chattering like sparrows down
the narrow winding lane

He observed their carefree banter
all their cheerful country ways
and he guessed they hadn’t missed him
those long locked-in-prison days

His father and his mother
younger sister and her spouse
all crowded through the gate into
their modest family house

Not a soul glanced up to spot him
in his look-out post on high
and a chilly thought went through him
as he searched the winter sky

Then he felt his body lighten
every atom drift apart
and the longing in his spirit
told the truth to his sad heart

So he rose into the ether
with a murmur and a sigh
no good reason to disturb them
he’d just needed to stop by